The Not So Horrible Holiday
by Eclectic Moone
Summary: A SS/HG Romance in New York at Christmas. Chapters 1 through 18 rewritten. Authors note posted regarding changeover to R rating with next posting.
1. About Christmas

I do not own one single solitary character or setting portrayed in this fic. I have no claim upon any part of the wonderful works of fiction created and owned solely by J.K. Rowling.  
  
*************************************************************************** There was only one week left until Christmas, but Hermione Granger was depressed. Her Christmas shopping was finished, and she had exchanged presents with everyone except Harry. He was the only Gryffindor remaining at Hogwarts during the holidays, so they had agreed to exchange gifts on Christmas day. It wasn't as if this were so bad. After all, Harry, and Ron of course, were still her dearest friends in the world. During the past six years, she had spent quite a few Christmases at Hogwarts. However, this year was different because it was the first time in a long while that she had felt homesick for her parents.  
  
She had so looked forward to immersing herself in the aura of anticipation and joy that always surrounded the muggle holiday season. She especially missed the solemn beauty of the midnight mass her family attended on Christmas Eve. So now, after more than six extraordinary years at Hogwarts, she found that her Gryffindor bravery and self-sufficiency required a little spoiling from her parents. She needed her Mum's Christmas cookies and her Dad's cuddle's.  
  
As is the case with mildly obsessive compulsive people, Hermione applied herself to certain aspects of her life fastidiously. She was unafraid of hard work, and she loved the blessings of academia more than the thought of love, boyfriends, girlfriends, dress robes, you name it. She never relented in her natural desire to be the best student she could be. However, her commitment to excellence did not manifest itself in study alone.  
  
Hermione put an equal amount of effort into self-reflection when it was required. She understood herself, and she worked hard at understanding and acknowledging the impetus behind her actions and goals. Perhaps she was even a little too honest with herself at times. She was probably one of a very small population of people who could intimidate themselves. There were times when she was hesitant to analyze her behavior simply because she considered rationalizations to be a luxury too dangerous to enjoy. After all, they were the very reasons that Ron, Harry, and she had almost lost their lives many times over.  
  
These were the character traits that had led her recently to the realization that she missed her muggle life. Furthermore, the young woman into which she had matured especially missed being her mum and dad's little girl. Being with them, and feeling their loving support, was the kind of reassurance she needed to finally make a decision about her future after graduation.  
  
She was grateful for the fact that there was a future to even consider. She could hardly believe it was only a few short months ago that she and Ron had followed Harry on a summer quest that had apparently defeated Voldemort once and for all. As had happened when Harry was a baby, there was no definite proof that he was gone. He had literally evaporated into thin air due to their combined efforts, as well as those of Dumbledore, Sirius, and Professor Snape. In the end it was the six of them, wands raised together, who vanquished him. There was no evidence that he had resurfaced, and the Deatheaters had once again disappeared to four-corners of the wizarding world in a reactive effort to remain as unobtrusive as possible.  
  
As word spread of their valiant defeat of He Who Must Not Be Named, Hermoine, the only witch in the group, had become the object of a popularity of the most Rita Skeeterish kind. It was as if that annoyance personified had multiplied. Interestingly, no one in the wizarding world considered her talents to be purely intellectual anymore, and the nasty term "mudblood luck" had seemingly disappeared into Voldamortian obscurity. Furthermore, the Ministry of Magic itself had described her, as was one of the most powerful witches to come along in many ages. It was this latter opinion, more than anything else that had rendered her almost as sought after as Harry.  
  
Privately, Hermione acknowledged that it was the combination of her intellectual abilities, her Gryffindor qualities, and a lot of luck that had made her a force to be reckoned with on the level of Harry Potter. And she wanted none of it. She had never been interested in fame, and had pitied Harry for his overwhelming share of it from the very beginning of their friendship. Now, she too was written about ad nauseum in all the witching magazines. She, who had only just figured out how to straighten her own hair, had become the woman young witches wanted most to resemble. While Ron was enjoying every moment of their elevated status, Hermione had long ago become more like Harry in her lack of appreciation for the dubious benefits of celebrity. It was for all these reasons that Hermione desperately wanted to go home for the holidays.  
  
Unfortunately, the week before she had been disappointed in her only Christmas wish. Her parents had sent her an owl containing a large package of presents along with a note saying they would be leaving in two days on an extended African safari. They would not be returning until the middle of January. In a fit of panic, Hermione had rushed to Professor McGonagall's office and incoherently begged her teacher for permission to floo home immediately. Minerva McGonagall had never seen her in such a state. With an air of concern, she'd given her permission with a nod of her head. Her mouth had been too wide open to grant verbal permission.  
  
In less than five minutes, Hermoine stepped out of the fireplace in the ancestral home she had grown up in. As she entered the library, she heard the thud of something heavy being deposited in the entry hall. Following the direction of the noise, she ran into the hall and surprised her mother, who had just dropped a large suitcase at the bottom of the stairs. "Darling!" she cried in surprise before lunging at her daughter and enfolding her in a hug of sheer mother joy.  
  
"Oh Mum!" Hermione sobbed, "I've missed you and Dad so much! "I just received your owl, and got special permission to floo home and beg you not to leave me this holiday."  
  
Having said this much, Hermione had completely broke down in her mother'' arms. Her father, having heard the commotion, came running down the stairs. Upon seeing his beautiful daughter unexpectedly sobbing in her mother's arms, he had begun to cry as well. He was a rather emotional man. Numerous hugs and copious tears later, they had all sat down to discuss the problem at hand. It was with a look of regret mingled with guilt that her mother explained their situation.  
  
"You see, Darling, we never dreamed for a moment that you would be coming home. When we didn't receive an owl from you, we thought for sure you couldn't bear to tell us you would be staying at Hogwarts again. Our friends, the Bridgerton's were going on a second honeymoon to Africa. They invited us and we accepted. It is a chance of a lifetime opportunity, and we have spent a considerable amount of time arranging the practice so we can go."  
  
Although she was disappointed, Hermione had understood immediately. She had felt ashamed as she realized that she had been taking her parents for granted for a long time. After all, it was she who had become so immersed in the wizarding world. It was she who constantly disappointed them by choosing to remain at school during many of her school holiday breaks. She had also spent several weeks each summer at the Weasley's home. This had rendered summer vacations away with her parents impossible. Yet, all along they had been there for her trying, with a modicom of success, to mask their disappointment and support their daughter as she became further attached to a world that could not always include them. Yet, they respected their daughter's gifts and were proud of having produced such a special girl.  
  
Therefore, despite her own neediness and disappointment, Hermione knew the unselfish thing to do was to give them her blessing. They rarely traveled, as their dental practice took up so much of their time. The last vacation she remembered them taking was their family vacation to France years ago. She'd realized, once again, that she had been gadding about for years while they had stayed at home.  
  
Additionally, they'd trusted her, and they'd had complete faith that Dumbledore would keep their only child safe. She would never have wanted to jeopardize her future in the wizarding world by inadvertently alerting them to the type of dangers that had been a constant looming threat. It was too hard to explain Voldemort without causing them excessive anxiety and her direct removal from Hogwarts. They had been more than good to her, and she had not been fair to them.  
  
So now, here she was stuck at school for the holidays with a moody Harry her only company. He had been sullen lately due to his inability to get in touch with Sirius. He had expected to spend the holiday with his godfather, and was disappointed that his first real family Christmas was not going to take place after all. No one had seen or heard from Sirius in over a month. Harry's feelings were a rather selfish disappointment mingled with a very unselfish concern for his godfather's safety. After all, Voldemort was gone, but no one knew better than Harry how present he might still be.  
  
Suddenly, a dramatic pounding on the door of her bedroom startled Hermione. 


	2. And so it begins

Again, I do not own one single solitary character or setting portrayed in this fic. I have no claim upon any part of the wonderful works of fiction created and owned solely by J.K. Rowling.  
  
Special Thanks to Practical Princess for being my first ever real reviewer! You are fabulous!.  
  
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Bewildered, Hermione opened the door and found herself face to face with a very upset looking Harry. He was panting, out of breath, and holding his side as if he'd just finished a brutal game of quidditch. She had barely taken a step backward into her room before he brushed past her unceremoniously and slammed the door behind him.  
  
"Harry! What?" said Hermione while trying to keep her steadily rising adrenaline flow from overwhelming her. "Calm down.... Calm down," she chanted soothingly out loud.  
  
"Hermione, give it a rest! Please! I'm working on it!"  
  
"I'm not talking to you Harry!" she replied defensively. "I'm talking to myself!  
  
Harry grabbed Hermione roughly by the shoulders. "Listen!" he said. "Sirius just showed up in Dumbledore's office. He's infiltrated some Deatheater meetings, and there's talk that Voldemort is not dead. They're saying he's out for blood. Namely ours!"  
  
"Harry, no. I can't deal with this. Not now," Hermione responded in a strangely calm tone of voice.  
  
"Snap out of it Hermione," he replied quietly. "Now is not the time to be in denial after all these years. You need to come to Dumbledore's office right away." Having said that, Harry swiftly exited her room purposely leaving her door wide open behind him.  
  
"Damn! Damn! Damn!" Hermione screamed out loud as she kicked the door closed with all the force she could muster. It would probably be the last temperamental thing she would be able to do for a while, and it had felt good. She proceeded to her closet and grabbed the first robe her hand fell on. Throwing it over her shoulders, she quickly made her way to Dumbledore's office.  
  
The first person she noticed upon entering was a highly agitated Professor Snape. He was pacing the room like a caged panther; his voluminous robes flowing about him like a flapping black banner on a stormy day. He stopped pacing for a brief moment to acknowledge Hermione's presence with an apathetic glance, and just as quickly resumed his pacing.  
  
Ever since the events surrounding their supposed defeat of Voldemort, Professor Snape had ceased his verbal torment of Hermione, Ron, and Harry. He wasn't nice to them. He simply ignored them as if pretending they didn't exist. He directed his nasty sneers and caustic comments at everyone else, with the exception of those in Slytherin, of course. Poor Neville Longbottom was the new recipient of Snape's unfortunate attentions now that Harry was no longer his preferred victim.  
  
Every now and then, Hermione would look up to find Snape's inscrutable gaze on her. The exchange of eye contact was so short in duration that she often wondered if he had in fact been looking at someone else. Yet, just when she thought she was incorrect in her assessment, she would look up again and find his eyes assessing her in a manner she didn't know how to interpret.  
  
His propensity for staring at he made her curious rather than self- conscious. She would puzzle over the mystery of it for hours, wondering what he was thinking when he looked at her. While she used to find him enigmatic at best, she now thought him to be the most fascinating teacher at school. Evil, but fascinating all the same. This said a lot considering the diversity of the teaching staff at Hogwarts.  
  
Over the years, they had all come to understand his true role at Hogwarts. For many years, his position as Potions Master had served as the facade that allowed him to infiltrate Deatheater meetings. Although his personality was fundamentally dismal, his rumored heinous activities while working for Voldemort, followed by his subsequent defection to Dumbledore, somewhat explained the complexity of his temperament. Hermione longed to see him smile. And she had long ago formed the opinion that with a whitening muggle toothpaste, and a haircut, he might be quite attractive.  
  
"Oh Good! Ms. Granger has joined us," said Dumbledore graciously. He beckoned her toward the seat he had just vacated. "Please take my chair Hermione. And Severus, I beg you, please stop roaming about my office like our dear Professor Lupin in full werewolf mode."  
  
Professor Snape immediately stopped pacing, but neglected to take a seat. Instead, he remained standing with his tall frame looming over everyone like a vengeful angel sent down from heaven.  
  
"I'm going to refrain from exchanging pleasantries and get right to the problem at hand," continued Dumbledore. "As you have all been informed by now, there is talk, and mind you it may be only talk, that Voldemort is on the move. Sirius has informed me that there may be specific plans to bring irreversible harm not only to Harry this time, but to Hermione, Ron and Severus as well."  
  
"Hermione and Severus are his particular targets," interjected Sirius. "They are furious that one of their own turned out to be a traitor, and that he moved undetected amongst them for so many years. Additionally, they are angry that, please excuse me Hermione for this unfortunate term, a 'mudblood' contributed so significantly to their downfall. If you ask me, they are humiliated with defeat, and using talk of Voldemort in a pathetic attempt to salvage their pride. They should be spending less time resurrecting Voldemort and more time licking their bloody wounds while preparing for the dementor's kiss."  
  
"Sirius?" asked Hermione, "Are you saying that this talk of Voldemort is only a rumor? If that is the case, I would prefer to ignore the whole issue until after Christmas."  
  
"Well isn't that a grand idea," sneered Professor Snape, "Isn't it just like a shallow child to suggest putting off potential danger so she can open a few gifts." He nastily stressed the word "few."  
  
All three of the seated gentleman jumped quickly to their feet. Harry and Sirius looking ready to do bodily injury to Snape, and Dumbledore, trying to avoid a new situation held up two hands in an attempt to regain peace. However, before Dumbledore could take any action, Hermione jumped to her feet and slapped Snape with all of the strength she could bring to her defense.  
  
"How dare you refer to me as a child," she said with deadly earnestness.  
  
Everyone, including the Professor, turned to look at her with expressions of shock followed by respect. Professor Snape looked at Hermione as if she had suddenly grown a second head. He carefully raised an elegant hand to his now reddened cheek stunned that she'd had the nerve to strike him.  
  
"Everyone sit down!" yelled Dumbledore. His magnified tone of voice indicating that he was very prepared to disperse with politeness himself. They all immediately sat down. As a now calm Hermione gracefully took her seat, the feeling of intense satisfaction that followed such an act of agression flowed through her blood for the second time in less than an hour. 


	3. Much Ado about Voldemort

As I mentioned previously, I do not own one single solitary character or setting portrayed in this fic. I have no claim upon any part of the wonderful works of fiction created and owned solely by J.K. Rowling.  
  
Thanks for the reviews. I found them energizing. I am excited to continue writing, so heeeeeere's chapter 3. It's a lot shorter than the other two, but I'm tired now so I have to stop.  
  
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Professor Snape, having had a moment to compose himself, snidely turned to Dumbledore, "Headmaster, I was not aware that there has been a change in the rules of conduct at Hogwarts. I may only speak for myself, but I for one do not approve of students committing acts of ill bred physicality against their teachers."  
  
"Severus," Dumbledore replied wearily, "Given your constant baiting of Ms. Granger throughout her tenure at Hogwarts, it is amazing to me that she has not struck you before now. For this, I believe we must all be thankful. You are correct in your assertion that it is not a practice I would condone on a regular basis. However, for today.... And now, may we move on to the urgent matter at hand. We have already wasted precious time."  
  
"Albus," inserted Sirius impatiently, "May I suggest that Harry, Hermione, and I proceed directly to a safe location I have already secured for us. My thoughts are that I can assume my animagus state, and therefore keep an eye on the two of them while continuing to infiltrate Deatheater meetings."  
  
"Sirius, I appreciate your quick response and subsequent actions," replied Dumbledore. However, Arthur Weasley and I have already laid out a plan. Having said that, please do your best to save your questions and comments for a few moments. There are quite a few details to wade through."  
  
"First of all, immediately upon the conclusion of our meeting, there will be an all owl notice sent to the home of each student. We will be advising them that the interim period between Christmas and the second half of the term will be extended until the first of February."  
  
Three voices interjected at once. Hermione immediately protested the loss of the few precious school days that were all that remained before finals. Harry, on the other hand, demanded information about remainder of the quidditch season. And Professor Snape, normally impassive, questioned the sanity of such a decision by nearly shouting, "Are you mad!"  
  
"If need be," continued Dumbledore as if no one had spoken, "We can continue the second term into the summer if parents are willing. Now, the necessity of this extension of the holiday break is a valid one. After all, it is not everyday that I announce the sudden death of our esteemed Potions Master."  
  
For the second time that day, Snape was so dumbfounded he could not speak. Despite the serious issue at hand, Hermione couldn't hold back a giggle at his open-mouthed expression.  
  
"I can see by your response, Ms. Granger, that you find the idea of my demise humorous? How unfortunate for me," replied Snape with a sarcastic emphasis on the word "unfortunate."  
  
"Professor Snape, that is not true," replied Hermione with an air of innocence. " I wasn't laughing at the thought of your purported death. I was laughing because with your mouth open you reminded me of a large black fish."  
  
"This is madness," said Sirius. "Knock it off you two. There is serious business to discuss. Dumbledore, are you quite sure that we need to go to these lengths?"  
  
"Arthur and I are not willing to take any chances," Dumbledore replied tiredly. "If Voldemort is on the rise, we feel certain he will focus his attack at the school where we have a large number of students vulnerable to his brand of prejudice. The temptation of Harry and Hermione alone would have the same effect as dangling a beefsteak before Fluffy. Therefore, to ensure the safety of everyone, the school will remain empty with the exception of the staff less one teacher. Since we cannot extend holidays willy-nilly, we need to have a valid reason for such an action. Hence, the announcement of Professor Snape's unexpected death. After all, it will logically follow that our staff will need additional time to mourn his passing, and that I will need to look for another potions master. Additionally, we can secure Severus's safety as well... And, perhaps most importantly, this will keep parental concerns to a minimum."  
  
"What! I merit only an additional two weeks to mark my death," said Snape sarcastically.  
  
"Unfortunately," replied Dumbledore, "Yes... Now, by putting it about that Severus is dead, Voldemort will naturally turn his attentions to Harry and Hermione, so listen carefully. Sirius, I want you to take Harry with you according to your plans. Hermione, you and Severus will pair up. I am sending you to the United States where you will temporarily assume false muggle identities." 


	4. Details, Details, Details

Have I mentioned that I do not own one single solitary character or setting portrayed in this fic. I have no claim upon any part of the wonderful works of fiction created and owned solely by J.K. Rowling.  
  
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"Hermione, My Dear," continued Dumbledore as if he'd just announced that tea was on its way, "It is my understanding that your parents have made other plans for the holidays, so I am hoping that you will not be sacrificing plans newly made?" The blood drained from Hermione's face as she looked up to meet the black-eyed intensity of Snape's disgusted gaze. His anger was palpable.  
  
"And did you know that I am partial to cheetahs?" continued Dumbledore conversationally.  
  
Four heads swiveled back to him in attentive surprise. "I beg your pardon Professor Dumbledore," said Harry. "What did you say?"  
  
"Ah ha! I knew you weren't listening!"  
  
They all had the grace to look embarrassed. They were so surprised at the pairing of Hermione and Snape that it was as if they hadn't yet processed anything else he'd said. Hermione thought Snape, who had resumed his furious pacing, looked as if was about to spontaneously combust. If they were going to avoid this perfectly awful situation, she realized it would be up to her to keep a cool head.  
  
"Professor Dumbledore," she said with an assumed air of maidenly shyness. "Wouldn't it be more appropriate for me to remain with Sirius and Harry. After all, for me to live in such close quarters for an extended period of time with a man I barely know. Well, needless to say, I don't think my parents would approve, and it doesn't make me feel at all comfortable.  
  
Dumbledore looked steadily at each of them. His expression was inscrutable. He did not offer an immediate reply. After several seconds that felt like minutes, he continued.  
  
"Gentlemen, Ms. Granger, I believe it is time for a little plain speaking. As you are very aware, Voldemort is the Napoleon Bonaparte of the wizarding world in his uncanny ability to defy death. Arthur and I have good reason to believe that this is not a rumor. The plans that we have laid out for you were crafted with the utmost consideration of not only your safety, but that of the school as well. I hope you realize that our goal is to see that each of you has a well-deserved opportunity to reap the benefits of old age. Now, Ms. Granger, I have a question for you. Which option do you think your parents would choose for you, deliverance from a potentially painful death or preservation of your personal honor?"  
  
"I see," replied Hermione crisply. Her quick intellect, for once, failing to come to her rescue with a suitable reply in the face of Dumbledore's undeniable logic and common sense.  
  
"Headmaster," said Snape addressing Dumbledore in a surprisingly calm manner, "You know I will follow your directions to the letter of the law. Although, I must say, I don't see the logic in Ms. Granger haring off to muggle America with me when she would be perfectly safe with Black."  
  
"Believe it or not, Severus, Arthur and I spent a considerable amount of time pondering these same questions. As I am sure you know, I am aware of everything that goes on in this school. Lately, there have been a number of scurrilous gossip magazines that have found an attentive audience amongst our students. Of course, I am never one to scorn an occasional tidbit of information, so naturally I have read them all.  
  
I am well aware of the wizard world's preoccupation with our Ms. Granger and Mr. Potter. According to what I've read, it is considered common knowledge that Harry and Hermione have been secretly indulging in more than a friendly relationship for quite a long time - please don't interrupt me. While I realize that this is not true, there are times that these articles make me wonder. I think that muggle rap song, I believe it was by a talented group of young musicians who referred to themselves as the "Music Factory, sums what I am trying to communicate rather well."  
  
"Do you mean Things That Make You Go Hmmm?" said Sirius laughingly. Harry punched him hard in the side.  
  
"Yes! Yes! The very song!" said Dumbledore excitedly. " It occurred to Arthur and I that if Voldemort is on a blood hunt, and Heaven forbid he is successful, we do not want three out of the four of you together. That could be a terrible loss. Furthermore, you can be sure that Voldemort's people will assume that Harry and Hermione will stay together no matter what the danger or provocation. The last place anyone would think to look for Hermione would be with her supposedly dead professor in one of the largest muggle cities in the world. It helps our plan even more that no one would believe that Severus would ever entertain the idea living in the muggle world.  
  
And finally, it is common knowledge that Severus is not popular with the students, and very much disliked by Hermione and Harry in particular. This latter fact alone renders the idea of the two of them together too incredible for Voldemort's spies to bother even considering such a ploy on our part, let alone investigating it. So you see, if we execute this plan to the letter of its details, no one will suspect a thing."  
  
"Professor Dumbledore, I am sold," said Sirius rising to his feet. "As always, I bow to your superior judgement. Harry, why don't you get a few things together, so we can be on our way."  
  
"Thank you Sirius. Right then! Good! Let's move on with the particulars," said Dumbledore in a jovial tone.  
  
As Harry passed by Hermione's chair, he knelt down and looked into her eyes. "Hermione, you know...." he began, but seemed too uncomfortable to find the right words. "I mean, if there were any way I could, well, you know... Hermione, just be careful," he said casting a meaningful glance in Snape's direction.  
  
"I know Harry," she replied with a calm she did not really feel. "You're a true friend. I'll be thinking of you and Sirius."  
  
In less than one hour, Sirius and Harry departed and left Hermione to her fate with Snape.  
  
"You will be residing in New York City by the way," said Dumbledore casually before continuing genially. Throughout the twentieth century," he said, "Headmasters have invested money in a fantastic muggle game they call the stock market. Hermione, I'm sure you are very familiar with it. It's really quite entertaining. I always wondered if we would someday require any of the muggle profits we've earned over the years. Alas, that day is today. Hermione, I bow to your superior knowledge of all things muggle. Is this enough money for you and Severus to live on for one month? Keep in mind that we have already created quarters for you in the city. This money we send with you now is what you will need to cover all your other expenses."  
  
Hermione looked over at a suitcase of money that suddenly appeared on the table before them. She drew an audible breath, shocked at the sight before her eyes. Inside the black leather bag were stacks of thickly bundled American money in numerous denominations. It looked like something out of a bad spy movie.  
  
"Arthur informs me that there is $750,000 in the suitcase," said Dumbledore. "I hope that is enough because once you leave, we will not have any way to send additional funds to you."  
  
"Professor Dumbledore," said Hermione still in shock, "That is more money than most people could ever spend in a lifetime. I'm not sure I feel so comfortable walking around with that much hard cash."  
  
"Oh, and what do you suggest we do," said Snape nastily, "Open an account with Gringotts and have the funds transferred to an American bank in our names?"  
  
Hermione, stung by his impertinence, matched his nasty tone. "You needn't be so awful you know. Don't you ever give it a rest? I personally find it hard to believe you've mastered potions when you seem incapable of self- managing your temper and character. You are so unfair! So macabre! So ridiculous!" She shouted the last word.  
  
Snape would have replied, but Dumbledore interrupted. He seemed unconcerned, and once again continued speaking as if an altercation between a student and a teacher was a daily occurrence. "Now then," he said. "You will be living as muggle business partners in a platonic relationship, of course. Your names are Sue Johnson and Larry Young. You are writers, and your expertise is in what muggles refer to as paranormal phenomenon. I suppose we wizards are included in that category don't you think? Here, take a look at these."  
  
With a self satisfied air, Dumbledore handed them copies of two books supposedly co-authored by the two of them. The first was entitled, "Ghosts in the Artworld." The second, "Aliens? Real or Ghosts at Play?"  
  
"This is too much," said Hermione. I can't handle this.  
  
"Yes you can my dear," replied Dumbledore soothingly. "Keep in mind, that as authors you'll rarely need to leave your apartment unless you choose to do so. That should make you happy at least Severus. "By the way," he said handing Hermoine a slip of paper, "Here is the address of your apartment. It's on Park Avenue. That ought to cheer you up a bit. I hear that it's a prime New York City location. Now, as you are going to be living as muggles, you need only take your wands. The rest of the things you need such as muggle wear you can purchase in New York. Also, remember to remove your robes and give them to Hagrid before you apparate.  
  
Hermione and Snape nodded in unison. They were too stunned to say anything else. It was all happening so fast.  
  
"Well, what are we waiting for? Oh yes, we await Professor Hagrid who will accompany you on foot to the edge of the Dark Forest. Once there, you will apparate to Times Square. You'll have to make your way to the apartment via muggle transportation."  
  
Before Hermione could even begin to process these last bits of information it was time to leave. She quickly removed a one hundred-dollar bill from one of the bundles before closing the suitcase.  
  
"I hardly think you will need money before we get there," said Snape speaking to her as if she were a small child.  
  
"Fine! I can put it back since I assume you think it would be better to open a large suitcase full of money in a taxi cab."  
  
Snape looked annoyed as he murmured a shrinking charm and shoved the now wallet sized suitcase into a trouser pocket. He felt angry that her barbs during the meeting had affected him even if only mildly. "Oh well," he thought grimly. "She will pay for it later."  
  
He felt frustrated. He knew how vulnerable he was going to be in muggle New York. After all, he'd never spent more than a few hours in any muggle city. He was completely ignorant of the intricacies of their culture, not to mention their archaic machines and gadgets. However, he would cut off his right arm before admitting it to her now. She'd get her gloating moment when she figured it out for herself and not a minute before.  
  
"Oh!" I almost forgot a most important detail," said Dumbledore. "I will not be able to communicate with you by owl. It could draw unwanted attention to you, and it could also expose your cover. Instead, I will communicate with you by utilizing what are called the 'Classifieds' section of a muggle newspaper that you will receive daily. You need only look under the section marked 'Rummage Sales.' This was Arthur Weasly's suggestion. Don't you agree that it's very clever."  
  
"Headmaster, what if we need to contact you?" asked Snape trying to hide the fact that he had no idea what Dumbledore was talking about.  
  
"I'm glad you asked that question Severus. As you know, I receive all the muggle newspapers daily. In fact, you can use 'Rummage Sales' as well. Ah! Here is our esteemed Professor Hagrid to accompany you. Goodbye. Good luck. Please know that I have the utmost confidence in both of you."  
  
Hermione rushed to Hagrid and threw her arms about him as if he were her only link to sanity. "There, there Hermione," said Hagrid with great concern. "You'll be ok. I mean, I know Snape is a nasty git and all, but you'll sew him up right 'n tight in no time at all."  
  
In a loud voice that was supposed to be a whisper he continued, "Personally, if you ask me, I think he's afraid of people. Afraid to let a body get to know him too much, if you know what I mean." He punctuated this strange statement with a wink, leaving Hermione even more bemused than before.  
  
While she was with Hagrid, Dumbledore took Snape aside. In a low voice he said with great severity, "Severus, I have entrusted Ms. Granger to your capabilities and strength. Take good care of her. I cannot think of anyone more skilled than you to ensure her safe return to Hogwarts."  
  
He paused for a moment, and then continued in a strident tone. "I firmly believe that I can trust that you would never take advantage of her personally." He looked directly into Snape's eyes. There was no mistaking his meaning.  
  
"You have nothing to worry about there," Snape snorted inelegantly. "If anything, you should be concerned that we don't murder each other before we get to the Dark Forest." He gave Dumbledore a nod, as he began one of the least palatable tasks he had been assigned since his former dark wizard life. Although unhappy with the situation, as always he was won over by Dumbledore's trust in him. "I promise you that she will return to school and finish the term in all her usual anal retentive glory." Looking at Hermione and Hagrid he muttered, "Let's go," with grim determination. 


	5. The Gap

By the way, I do not own one single solitary character or setting portrayed in this fic. I have no claim upon any part of the wonderful works of fiction created and owned solely by J.K. Rowling.  
  
**************************************************************************** **  
  
They apparated directly into one of the busiest sections of Times Square and landed in the middle of a sea of people. Their sudden appearance in the middle of a crowd seemingly made no impression on anyone. Hermione had spent a considerable amount of time in London with her parents; however, she was not prepared for the claustrophobic conditions of New York during the holiday season. There were tourists everywhere rudely jostling others as they fumbled with their cameras to take pictures in the middle of the crowd. In addition to these nightmares, New Yorkers continued about their business with a relentlessness that seemed rather dangerous.  
  
Hermione suddenly realized that Professor Snape was no longer walking beside her. She looked around frantically, and finally located him in the swirling crowd. He had dropped quite a bit behind her, but his imposing height allowed her to detect him. He looked rather concerned himself.  
  
She was facing the main flow of the sidewalk traffic and watched as he steadily progressed towards her. While she could see him, he had not yet found her. He began looking about him worriedly. When he was within a foot of her, she lunged to her right knocking into several people. A chorus of "hey lady's" assailed her from several directions as she made a grab for Snape's arm. She was relieved when she was certain it was him who she had successfully pulled into the sheltered doorway of a "Gap" clothing store.  
  
"Oh my!" cried Hermione. "Professor Snape, I thought for sure we were separated for good."  
  
"I know," replied Snape shivering from the cold. "This is living up to every nightmare I have ever had about life as a muggle. Also, it's freezing here. I thought New York would at least be warmer than Hogwarts, but I see there will be no end to my suffering until February."  
  
"Oh! Do stop complaining," said Hermione with a groan. "The reason you're cold is because we left our robes behind. Remember? Fortunately, we've stopped in front of a 'Gap.' Can you manage to get some money out, so we can buy coats."  
  
"Didn't we already discuss at length the money you secured before leaving Hogwarts?"  
  
"Well, yes but, HELLO PROFESSOR, one hundred dollars is probably not enough to buy two coats. Besides, I'm going to need to buy toothpaste, a new toothbrush, hair brush, shampoo--"  
  
"Please, stop. Please. Your personal needs are of no interest to me whatsoever."  
  
"Not even my tampons?"  
  
"Ms. Granger!" He was bellowing at this point, and it was loud enough to draw attention to them, even in New York City. Hermione suppressed her naughty grin and began to write an imaginary letter in the air.  
  
"Dear Professor Snape,  
  
Please accept my most abject apologies for referencing such naughty things as shampoo and tampons. I promise never to subject you to a discourse on my personal habits ever again. Futhermore, I will never ask you to go to the chemist for me during my monthly flow.  
  
Sincerely, Hermione Granger."  
  
"Are you finished you odious child? Yes? Well take this damned extra money and let's get this over with."  
  
Hermione tried to look serious as he peered suspiciously into the entrance of the store before making the first move to enter. But he looked so completely ill at ease that she had to cover her mouth and lower her head so that he would not see her laughing.  
  
It was almost as crowded inside the store as it was outside of it, which made Snape even more miserable. Hermione stopped to roll her eyes at him and then quickly assessed the mad holiday scene before her. "Well then, it seems to be split into two floors. Look. There's a sign pointing up the stairs for men's clothes. Shall we go there first?"  
  
"Miss Granger," replied Snape with annoyance, "Oddly enough, I have managed to shop for my own clothing for many years without your, er, assistance in choosing them for me. I think I can manage on my own."  
  
"Well, I just don't want to take the chance that we will accidently separate before we even find our flat," said Hermione logically. "I really do think we should stick together."  
  
Snape turned abruptly toward the stairway without a backward glance at Hermione. He therefore missed the smug smile that briefly crossed her face. She realized as she watched him that she had never seen him before without robes. She saw for the first time his legs moving in a vaguely familiar long stride. This explained the reason his robes were constantly billowing around him. As they reached the landing he went directly to an area with coats and began to casually sort through them.  
  
Using the façade of looking along with him, Hermione took advantage of an opportunity to examine him up close and full out. She was surprised to realize that he was attractive. It was as if she was seeing him for the first time. His jet-black hair seemed less greasy, probably because of the cold air, and waved about his face almost to his shoulders. His face was masculine, chiseled. And, she realized in amazement, that he was not as old as she had assumed. "Why, he is younger than my parents," she assessed with wonder.  
  
He had nice body out of his robes. He was lean yet broad shouldered; his waist was narrow; and his legs looked muscular. She couldn't quite tell to what degree however. "Now this is a wizard," she thought, "who should never wear an overly large robe."  
  
As if to confirm her assessment of his person, an appreciative looking young, clerk approached him. She was petite, red-haired, and attractive. She looked him up and down in a tarty, bold manner. Despite the cold weather, she was wearing a tight-fitting tank top with a neckline so low that Hermione was certain Snape could see a large portion of her chest. Yes, he definitely could see it because he was not even trying to disguise the fact that he was taking his time in enjoying the view so freely presented to him.  
  
"Do you need any help finding something attractive to wear?" the girl asked in a ridiculously coy manner. "I think I can help you." Her expression suggested that she would like help him with something naughtier than selecting clothes.  
  
An unfamiliar feeling consumed Hermione prompting her to step in front of Snape with her back to him. "That's alright," she said crisply. "I am perfectly capable of assisting him."  
  
"Oh," the girl replied innocently as she slithered away toward another customer. But oth Hermione and Snape heard her mutter, "Bitch" under her breath.  
  
"Jealous?"  
  
Hermione whipped around indignantly to face Snape who was actually grinning. He looked triumphant and wicked. Hermione was offended by his assumption, but enthralled by the first smile she had ever seen on his face. It didn't matter that it was a leering sort of a smile, but its effect when turned upon her was more than her limited experience with the opposite sex had prepared her for. She felt confused and embarrassed. Her face was suffused with color as she muttered, "Hardly," and then turned and briskly walked away.  
  
Professor Snape watched Hermione as she marched over to a rack of quilted jackets. "She's such a little girl," he mused. "She's clever, but she's so young. How am I ever going to get through the next month with only a teenager for company?" He had been lost in thought for several minutes when he suddenly realized that was speaking to him. He was embarrassed that she had caught him, her teacher, not paying attention.  
  
"Well?" she asked impatiently. "How about one of these?" She was holding up a puffy, black coat that looked like it was made from a down quilt.  
  
"I don't think so," he replied with his usual sarcastic tone. He marched over to a rack of black pea coats and began to look through them. Suddenly, he turned to her uncomfortably. "Ms. Granger," he said, "I am unfamiliar with muggle clothing. Would you mind helping me choose a size?" It had killed him to ask for her help, but he really hadn't a clue how to proceed.  
  
Hermione, noticing his reluctance to ask for help, said with mock innocence, "Oh! Having chosen your own clothes since what, the 1930's, I thought you didn't need my help."  
  
"Nevermind," Snape said as he turned abruptly away.  
  
Hermione felt ashamed. Assuming his negative behavior wasn't the right way to behave at all. Besides, she was at her best when instructing. "No, I'm sorry," she said. "I think I'm just tired and stressed out. I don't feel at all myself." Having said that, she proceeded to help him purchase, not only a coat, hat, gloves, and scarf, but an additional change of clothing for the next day as well. He also selected a pair of pajama bottoms. She could feel her cheeks redden when he didn't show any interest in purchasing a coordinating pajama top, and she'd wished she could crawl into her own skin when started selecting underwear.  
  
They then proceeded downstairs where Hermione indulged herself in a mad fit of muggle shopping. She much preferred her muggle clothes, and purchased two full shopping bags for herself. Snape waited patiently while she tried on several outfits, including a low cut tank top. "They seem to be all the rage here," she responded when he raised his eyebrows questioningly at her choice.  
  
In her innocence, she didn't notice the assessing, and very surprised, glance he gave to her chest which filled in the skimpy top quite admirably. "Well, maybe 'little girl' is not quite the right way to describe her," he thought sarcastically. "Perhaps young woman would be more correct."  
  
They had the clerk remove the tags from their newly purchased outdoor wear. Just as they were ready to leave, Hermione placed a hand on Snape's arm to detain him.  
  
"I think we should hold hands," she suggested gravely.  
  
"What?" he asked as if shocked by the suggestion. He was so surprised his eyebrows looked as if they were going to disappear into his hairline.  
  
"Well, as distasteful as I find the idea of holding hands with you, even with gloves on, I prefer it to becoming separated. What would we do if that happened?" she asked.  
  
"Very well," he replied, as he grudgingly grabbed her hand and practically dragged her through the door and into the swelling crowd of Christmas shoppers and tourists. 


	6. The Gift

Anyway, I do not own one single solitary character or setting portrayed in this fic. I have no claim upon any part of the wonderful works of fiction created and owned solely by J.K. Rowling.  
  
****************************************************************************  
  
Merging into the pedestrian traffic hand in hand, and with shopping bags, was not as easy as apparating into it. Snape's gloved hand tightened involuntarily over Hermione's as he guided her, "God only knew where."  
  
They had just passed through some sort of tunnel constructed of wood that stretched the length of an entire block. As they emerged into the not so fresh air, a tall, muscular, blond, young man wearing a black leather jacket and a cowboy hat approached Hermione. Snape, continuing to walk with her hand grasped tightly in his, unknowingly created a barrier with their hands that forced her to walk right into the man.  
  
"Oh, pardon me," she said as she straightened herself out. As she looked up, she was caught in the intense gaze of the most amazingly blue eyes she had ever seen. On the other side of the man's back, Severus angrily tried to propel Hermione around him so they could continue on their way. But Hermione was unwilling to cooperate. The young man, apparently liking what he saw, turned a perfectly white, even toothed smile on her.  
  
"Happy Holidays to ya Mam," he drawled in a deep southern accent.  
  
Hermione, completely at a loss for words, merely continued to stare up at him open-mouthed.  
  
"Oh for pity's sake this is disgusting!" Snape's impatient comment served to jolt Hermione from her catatonic state, but it didn't bring forth any of her usual sensible behavior.  
  
"Are you an American cowboy?" she flirtatiously asked the man in the hat as crowds of people swirled on either side of the three of them.  
  
"And are you a British lady?" he asked in a voice tone that could just as easily have said, "And are you a whore?"  
  
They were never able to answer each other because Snape viciously tugged Hermione around the man and up the sidewalk.  
  
"Ouch!" she cried out. "What's the matter with you?"  
  
As Snape continued to pull her away, the man followed after her holding out a booklet. Stretching her other arm toward him, she barely managed to grasp it before he disappeared completely from view.  
  
"Merry Christmas My Lady!" he yelled after her.  
  
Hermione did not even have a moment to look at what he had given to her, but she was suddenly aware of other people holding up similar books and offering them to those passing by for five dollars. She realized that the blond god had given her a gift. Inordinately pleased with herself, she was still smiling dreamily when Snape came to a sudden halt.  
  
Giving her a savage shake with both hands he nastily said, "Come down from the clouds Girlie, and help us get where we are to go." Then he muttered under his breath, "How the hell does one find transportation in this heinous cesspool of muggles?"  
  
If looks could kill, then Severus Snape would have fallen dead where he stood from the malevolent expression on Hermione's face. Irritably, she stepped in front of him and began to walk at a furious pace jerking him abruptly behind her and holding his hand in a vise-like grip. It was her turn to drag him around for a change, and she was going to enjoy it. She continued in this manner for two full blocks enjoying every "oomph" and expletive she heard emitting from Snape like a volcano each time he bumped into someone.  
  
Finally, she unconsciously mirrored the actions of her parents as she dragged Snape behind her to the next corner and out into the street. She placed her hand into the air and successfully hailed a rapidly approaching taxi.  
  
Neither of them had time to think as they scuttled into the back seat of the cab. Severus presented the piece of paper with their address, and the driver took off pressing them abruptly back into their seats with the sudden forward movement of the car.  
  
The driver had not gone a full block when Hermione rounded viciously on Snape. "You arrogant, nasty, bugger! For as long as we are jailed together in this place, do not....And I mean, do not, refer to me as 'girlie' again! Do you understand me?"  
  
"And how would you prefer I address you?" asked Snape equally as nasty. "My Lady perhaps?"  
  
Hermione's eyes narrowed to slits, as she shot back, "At least he wasn't a rudesby like you!"  
  
"Oh you think him a gentleman do you? Listen here Gir, I mean Ms. Granger, handsome does not a gentleman make."  
  
"How I wish Harry and Ron could be here with us right now," she replied in a suddenly wistful and sweet voice. "In fact, I wish all the young men of Hogwarts were here to take advantage of our Potions Master's lecture entitled, "How to Be a Gentleman Instead of a Nasty Git Like Me."  
  
Snape had the good grace to look embarrassed. He knew he was the last person on earth who would ever be considered a person of gentlemanly behaviour. In an effort to change the hostile atmosphere, he quickly eyed the booklet given to Hermione by the cowboy. "By the way," he asked, "What did your fair American Romeo gift you with Ms. Granger?"  
  
"Oh!" she replied remembering the booklet for the first time. She picked it up and began to read the title quietly to herself. "The Best Positions in the Kama Sutra. Hmmm... Curious...." she said as she began to leaf through the booklet. As she turned each successive page, she began to turn a deeper shade of red.  
  
"Well?" asked Snape with a disinterest that rapidly became fascination as Hermione tried to stuff the thing into her coat pocket. Leaping across her lap with the agility of a panther, he snatched the book from her hand before she realized he had even moved.  
  
"No!" she shouted in dismay as she lunged for the booklet, which he held in an impregnable grasp above his head. "Give it back Severus Snape!"  
  
"I didn't realize that we had progressed to addressing each other by our first names. However, I'm glad you've done so. This Ms. Granger this, and Professor that, was bound to become tiresome very quickly. Oh, and no. No, you will not get this back until I've taken a look at your, ahhh, Christmas gift."  
  
Without hesitation Severus began to leaf through the booklet, but didn't get very far because it slipped from his fingers as he began to laugh uproariously. The booklet fell open on the seat between them brazenly displaying its contents to the entire back seat of the cab. It consisted of numerous pictures of a couple engaged in a variety of sex acts. Hermione, while still a virgin at almost eighteen years of age, twenty- two when she remembered the time tuner, was completely floored by what she saw the people doing in the booklet. She had never dreamed...."This is what people do?" she questioned in embarrassed fascination.  
  
All her shamefully curious thoughts and questions evaporated as she began to refocus her attention on the man beside her. She had thought his smile was intriguing earlier, but to see and hear this man laugh was a sight to behold. It was as if a naughty angel with a baritone laugh had replaced the brooding and obnoxious Professor Snape.  
  
Of course, there is always something about laughing that renders it an activity that cannot be done alone. Suddenly, Hermione found herself consumed with the ridiculousness of their entire situation. She began to laugh with him. This prompted him to further hilarity as their eyes met and held in shared amusement. Neither of them was aware of the cabby regarding them in his rear view mirror.  
  
"Foreigners," he said while shaking his head in disgust. 


	7. Awareness in a Cab

Like I said, I do not own one single solitary character or setting portrayed in this fic. I have no claim upon any part of the wonderful works of fiction created and owned solely by J.K. Rowling.  
  
Thanks to everyone who has reviewed my little story so far. I appreciate your feedback. You keep me motivated to continue.  
  
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After several minutes, their laughter began to taper off and then stopped altogether. Neither of them was prepared for the sudden onset of a new aspect to their relationship. It had begun with their shared laughter and was continuing to envelop them with a growing awareness of each other.  
  
For the first time in a long while, Severus Snape found that he was unable to retreat back into his comfortable role of nasty professor. He couldn't tear his eyes away from the intensity of Hermione's brown-eyed gaze. He began to see what he never allowed himself to consider with regard to his pupils. This person sitting next to him was no longer another student to put up with. She was no longer one-dimensional to him.  
  
As much as he detested Gryffindor characteristics, he realized that in her they represented strengths he had never detected in a Slytherin house witch. In fact, she was one of the most interesting girls he had ever interacted with at Hogwarts. She was also one of the few people he knew who could stand up to him. "Why, she had even slapped his face!" he remembered in amazement. Her expressions and moods could change faster than the weather. One moment she could be listening attentively, unprovoked; and yet a second later she could look as if a fury was brewing within her.  
  
The memory of the way she looked in the smallish top at the store inserted itself into his reflections causing him recollect that she was no girl at all. He also recalled how she had admonished him about that terminology.  
  
"Watch yourself Severus," he thought chastisingly. "Remember that Dumbledore selected you because he knows he can trust you with her." There will be plenty of time for romance with a witch your own age at the end of the school year.  
  
His self-remonstrance proved to be a waste of mental energy because his eyes, as if they had taken on a life of their own, began to move away from hers and float downward to assess the delicate contours of her face. "God she was beautiful," he realized in astonishment. As if mesmerized, he watched as she slowly removed the glove from her right hand, and gracefully stretched it toward him...  
Hermione felt as if she were in a trance as she took tumble into womanhood. Yet, she didn't feel at all romantic. Rather, she felt that she had fallen into a strange, new, world where satisfying one's curiosity prevailed over common sense and inhibitions. In her past, there were boys who had admired her. First there was Victor and then Ron. There had even been a few hideous moments when she had caught Malfoy looking at her chest.  
  
However, as Snape's black-eyed gaze unrelentingly assessed her, she felt an emerging sense of herself as a woman. She suddenly knew what it is like to be admired by a man instead of a boy. The feeling was heady, and the more it grew, the more empowered she felt. Before she realized what she was doing, she had begun to remove her glove.  
  
She felt almost as if she were doing a striptease for him as his eyes focused hypnotically on the slow movements of her hands. She then stretched her right hand forward to do something she had never thought to do. She was amazed at herself as her fingers tentatively and then lingeringly, feathered through the black silk of his hair. His eyes began to close, and he leaned into her hand turning his face into her palm. Suddenly the driver interrupted their idyll.  
  
"I hope you guys aren't in a hurry." The traffic here ain't going nowhere for a while."  
  
Hermione jumped away from Severus as if he had bit her. Her embarrassment, compounded by the telltale blush infusing her cheeks, was noticeable. With her usual determination, she forced herself to respond to the driver.  
  
"Say," she asked. "Is there a chemist near by?"  
  
"A what?" he replied as if she had been speaking a foreign language.  
  
"You know, a place to buy necessary items like toothpaste," she explained.  
  
"Yeah! Haven't you noticed there's a 'Duane Reed' on every freakin block?" he asked sarcastically.  
  
His attitude served to bring Hermione back to her normal self. "Well," she replied repressively, "If you wouldn't mind pulling up to the next one, I would like to get out and purchase a few things - while the meter is running of course."  
  
"Yep. The meter runs. That goes without sayin Lady," he muttered.  
  
"Americans," she said under her breath while casting a - can you believe this guy's attitude - look at Severus. But when she looked up at him, he quickly looked away which she found intriguing. Her newfound empowerment returned, replacing her embarrassment, as it dawned on her that the "moment" between them had disconcerted him as much as it had her. She began to smile as the car swooped next to the curb in front of a never-to-be- taken-for-granted-again "Duane Reed" store.  
  
"Hermione, what is this all about?" said Severus plaintively in what her mother referred to as manspeak. "We just went to the store."  
  
"You probably don't know this, but my parents are dentists," she replied. "I don't go anywhere without a toothbrush. Do you need anything? Shave supplies perhaps?" she asked while holding out her hand to Severus for more money.  
  
Severus looked nonplussed as he suddenly realized that he was going to have to take care of his personal needs muggle style. He wasn't sure if she'd sensed his discomfort, or was simply in a hurry, but she suddenly turned away saying, "I'll just get stuff."  
  
Severus settled himself into the seat expecting to wait a long time. Oddly enough, he began to feel less annoyed. After all, what was there to hurry to except perhaps a good night's rest. However, Hermione returned in what seemed a very short time with two bulging plastic shopping bags.  
  
"So, what did you buy us?" he asked casually as the driver once again took off without a care for his passengers comfort.  
  
"Let's see," she replied while moving items from one bag to the other. She handed him one saying, "That's yours. I bought us each toothbrushes, toothpaste, tooth whitening strips, and dental floss. I also bought us shaving supplies; men's for you women's for me. Oh, and I bought us both lots of hair products. I asked a woman standing next to me what to buy. Her hair looked really nice, so I thought...."  
  
She never finished her sentence because the driver suddenly pulled over and stopped. "Ok folks, this is the eleven hundred block of Park Avenue," he said, "I can't get closer to your building, but it's the one next to this one here. See where that doorman is in the black coat?" Hermione spied a very professional looking doorman standing under the canopy of an elegant looking building.  
  
"That's $7.85 on the meter Lady," the cab driver said.  
  
Hermione ignored him and exited the cab while Severus paid the driver. She quickly walked to the building and verified that the address matched the one on the paper. Severus joined her, and they proceeded to the gold and glass door only to find their passage blocked by the doorman.  
  
"Can I help you?" he asked politely. 


	8. In Which They Meet the Neighbor

I do not own one single solitary character or setting portrayed in this fic. I have no claim upon any part of the wonderful works of fiction created and owned solely by J.K. Rowling.  
  
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The doorman's tone was polite, yet something in his manner lead Hermione to believe that he'd already decided that there was nothing he could do for them. Severus sighed impatiently and quickly assumed his intimidating professorial manner. He stepped directly in front of the man.  
  
"May I present Ms. Johnson," he said haughtily. "I am Mr. Young."  
  
"Oh!" replied the young man in a suddenly service oriented manner, "I recall the Concierge mentioning that..."  
  
He was unable to finish because Severus cut him off abruptly mid-sentence. "We are tired and cold. Be a good chap and step aside... ..Now!"  
  
"He's baaack," sang Hermione under her breath as she watched the doorman move so quickly out of their way that he bumped into a woman approaching the entrance from behind them. With her was a tiny, white dog on a leash.  
  
The Doorman apologized profusely to both the woman and the dog. His formal manner toward the dog was absurd, but the woman seemed to think nothing of it. Severus rolled his eyes and sighed in disgust prompting the doorman to shift his attention back to the two of them. He quickly darted around them and entered the building followed by the others, including the dog, who now indulging in a fit of annoying barking.  
  
Hermione's attention was diverted from the chaos as she took her first look at her temporary home. She found herself in a small, but elegantly decorated lobby with furniture so delicate she wondered who could possibly sit on it. The color schemes were pinks and florals done up in a myriad of dainty patterns. She suddenly felt a little more relaxed. "Perhaps," she thought, "It is due to the muggle décor." She didn't know why, but she felt suddenly more sure of herself even though she was in a foreign country. "At least here I'm the norm and not Him."  
  
A sudden burst of laughter erupted involuntarily from her as she watched Severus assess the lobby with distaste. Their eyes met briefly before he wearily turned back to the hapless doorman.  
  
"Mr. Young, Sir....I....I.....Sir....I was just about to say that we have been expecting you. My name is Garth, Sir, and I will find Mr. Corman, our night concierge, so that he may assist you immediately.....Sir." As he started to turn away from them, the woman with the dog suddenly leaped forward and caught him by the arm.  
  
"Not so fast Garth," she said pulling him around to face her, "I'm late, and you know how She gets when I'm late with the dog."  
  
Before he could reply, the elevator doors opened spilling into their midst a petite blond woman followed by a very tired-looking man.  
  
"Oh, there's my Poupee!" she announced dramatically as she scooped the white dog into her arms and promptly broke into a torrent of tears.  
  
"You see, Ms. Haynes," said the man with her tiredly, "Here is your Poupee, all safe and sound." He had skidded to an abrupt halt and began to soothe her while quickly taking in Severus's thunderous countenance.  
  
Garth looked meaningfully first at Mr. Corman and then at Severus. He didn't need to communicate verbally. Mr. Corman understood imperceptibly that his more than capable services needed to be offered immediately. Before he could even open his mouth to address them, Poupee's owner literally threw herself toward the woman who had previously held the dog and who was in the process of making her escape.  
  
"Not so fast honey!" she said angrily confronting the other woman. "You were late! I demand an explanation."  
  
"Ms. Haynes," said the woman tiredly, "I apologize for being late, but your dog wouldn't do his business." You didn't want me to bring him back beforehand did you?"  
  
"Well, you could at least have called to let me know you were running late. Didn't you know I would be sick with worry?  
  
"Look, Mam" answered the woman impatiently, "I'm a dog walker. I get paid to walk your dog. That's what I did. Do you want me to come back tomorrow?"  
  
"Well, yes of course I do," replied the now affronted Ms Haynes. Her tone implied that she thought the woman had lost her mind to ask such a question. "He needs to go out everyday!" She tenderly held the dog up to her face and kissed it lovingly on the lips. "Oh, my precious, darling, sweetums, boy!" she cooed. "Did you go potty? Did you go poopee, my Poupee? Hmmm? Hmmm???" She had just begun to nuzzle the underside of the dog's belly when Severus bellowed,  
  
"What the devil is going on here? I demand assistance! Immediately!"  
  
Startled out of her fascination with the woman, Hermione turned to see Severus looming over the unfortunate concierge. Mr. Corman looked as if he were about to loose his bladder on the black and white tiled ceramic floor. Garth just looked plain scared. Ms. Haynes looked.....Enraptured.  
  
She was staring at Severus as if he was the most fascinating man she had ever seen. "Hello Gorgeous," she said mimicking Barbara Streisand as Fanny Brice to a tee.  
  
Severus gave her a withering stare as he descended upon Mr. Corman like a hawk. She seemed undaunted by his formidable bearing.  
  
"Mr. Corman," interrupted Garth in a squeaky voice, " Here are Mr. and Mrs. Young."  
  
"Oh," sighed Ms. Haynes sulking prettily in her disappointment upon hearing they were married.  
  
"We are not married!" inserted Hermione quickly finding her voice for the first time since their arrival. "Mr. Corman, I am Sue Johnson. Mr. Young and I are colleagues."  
  
"Ms. Johnson, Mr. Young, I am glad to meet you both at last," he replied. "We have been expecting you. I do apologize that I was not here to welcome you immediately upon your arrival. If you will be patient just one more moment, I will get the keys for you. By the way, welcome to The Strand. We are glad to have you."  
  
As he disappeared around a corner, Garth held out his hand to Severus saying, "Welcome. As I mentioned before, I am Garth, the evening doorman. If there is anything I can do?" His hand was extended palm up to Severus who glanced at it and then looked witheringly into Garth's expectant face.  
  
"Alrighty then," said Garth retrieving his hand. "I'd best return to my post. By the way, allow me to introduce you to your neighbor, Ms. Haynes. Not that you need an introduction to the most beautiful actress in America."  
  
"Why thank you Garth, she said like a queen accepting her due adoration before immediately turning to Severus with her back to Hermione. "So," she said, "We're to be neighbors. Ours are the only units on the entire floor, but of course you know that. Isn't that lovely? By the way, please call me Roxana."  
  
Hermione stepped from behind "Roxana" to stand beside Severus and get a proper look at the woman. She didn't like what she saw. Roxana Haynes, while no Julia Roberts, was more than attractive. Her features were exquisite, consisting of large green eyes and a full, seductive mouth. Her honey blond hair was pulled back into a pretty chignon which rested gently on the back of her long graceful neck. Hermione's eyes traveled involuntarily downward and her eyes grew as large as saucers as she took in a tiny waist topped by large, perfectly formed breasts.  
  
"Great!" she thought. "This is our neighbor. The nightmare continues!" She suddenly realized that she had been staring. However, that thought was barely completed when she realized that the other two had not noticed her staring at all. In fact, they were chatting amiably.  
  
Hermione watched as Severus took in Roxana's attractions with a cool intensity. She sensed intuitively that he was attracted to this woman. She watched in sick fascination as he mesmerized Roxana without even trying. She was obviously some American personality who was undoubtedly used to having any man she wanted. It was the second time in less than an hour that Hermione had witnessed a beautiful woman's attraction to Severus Snape. After all, here was a man who, for her, had only become more than a one- dimensional villain within the last hour or so.  
  
"It must be a muggle woman thing," she thought before remembering, "Oh! I'm a muggle woman! But I don't find him at all attractive."  
  
However, Hermione, ever honest, suddenly remembered the cab ride. "Why, I do find him to be handsome!" she admitted to herself in awe. As if to confirm this wonder of wonders, she looked over at Severus who was busy conversing a deux with Ms. Haynes. "It must be the way he looks in muggle clothing," she thought. "There is something sexy about him, but he'll turn back into his old Snapey self as soon as we get back to Hogwarts."  
  
"Hermione! Earth to Hermione!"  
  
"Oh Lord!" She said. "I do apologize. I was so lost in my thoughts." She instantly realized that she was alone with Severus in the lobby.  
  
"Obviously," Severus replied impatiently. "Can we go? Please!"  
  
"Yes, of course. Where did everyone go?"  
  
"My, my," he replied as he stepped aside to allow her to enter the elevator first, "The ever alert and vigilant Ms. Granger lost in a world of her own making. It seems so out of character, but I must admit I rather enjoyed the brief respite your sudden lapse in conversation provided."  
  
Hermione was stung by his sudden sarcasm. "I don't get this man," she thought before replying with a sting in her tone that matched his. "I'm surprised you noticed me at all. You seemed quite busy assessing the ample charms of our, erm, neighbor."  
  
"You sound jealous Hermione, but it's really not necessary."  
  
"Excuse me!" she responded in astonishment.  
  
"After all," he continued as if she had not said a word, "Her "charms," as you referred to them, were not hers at birth. If you know what I mean?" He paused for a moment before glancing briefly down where her unzipped coat revealed her own ample bosom clearly outlined beneath her shirt. "Yours on the other hand," he continued, "I'm thinking they appear to be the real thing."  
  
Hermione was too stunned to reply. Also, the elevator door opened thus eliminating the opportunity. 


	9. The Dreadful Waterbed

I do not own one single solitary character or setting portrayed in this fic. I have no claim upon any part of the wonderful works of fiction created and owned solely by J.K. Rowling.  
  
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Although still perplexed by Severus's unexpected comment, Hermione's curiosity about their temporary home consumed her as she stepped out of the elevator. She had not missed Roxana's comment about theirs being the only two units on the floor. As the Strand was a large building, she realized that the flats must be very large indeed.  
  
With her very first glance she took in a moderately sized seating area similar in style to the one in the lobby. The only difference between the two, amazingly, was that their private seating area was done up in the Gryffindor colors. While she realized the decorator did not know Gryffindor from Schmiffindor, Hermione felt something akin to relief wash through her. She feasted her eyes approvingly on the burgundy and gold striped loveseat positioned opposite the elevator. Severus either did not notice or did not care. He was too busy searching his pockets for the key given to him by Mr. Corman.  
  
"Damn!" he swore as is hand nearly broke through the fabric of his trousers while he searched his front pockets in vain. Unused to the small size of a muggle key, his search had caused him to circle around with his back to Hermione. Next, he shrugged his coat off and began to rummage its pockets in frustration. Hermione, who was beginning to feel impatient herself, was shaking her head at his antics when she suddenly spied a suspicious shape his rear pocket. It was the elusive key. Its small shape was highly visible because Snape, his hands plunging deeply in his front pockets, had pulled the fabric of his trousers tautly across his backside. Hermione's slight discomfort with his previous conversation was quickly replaced with fascination as her eyes took in this shapely, round, and very muscular part of his anatomy.  
  
"Ummm, Severus?" she asked haltingly, "Severus, I think the key is in your back pocket."  
  
"Thanks for telling me that now that I've just realized that fact!" he snapped over his shoulder.  
  
"Hold still, perhaps I can help."  
  
Hermione gently slid two fingers into the tight space of his back pocket. She immediately felt a rush of heat pass through her. This was the closest she had ever come to touching a man's rear end.  
  
Severus, on the other hand, remained frozen as she slowly extracted the key from his pocket. He could feel her warm breath on the back of his neck, and he could feel himself beginning to respond physically to her touch. His reaction continued after she extracted the key. Neither of them moved as they each sought to get hold of their emotions before facing each other.  
  
"Thank you," said Severus several seconds after a thank you was technically required. He calmly took the key from her and proceeded the few short steps to the end of the hall. There they found two doors standing across from each other. Hermione held up the crumpled paper with their address, and Severus inserted the key into the lock of an ornately detailed mahogany door on their left.  
  
She noticed that his hand was shaking. She sensed intuitively that his awareness of her, as a woman, was the cause of his mild tremors. For Professor Snape's hand motions were considered to be extremely graceful. She wondered at his vulnerability and experienced a satisfaction that had the elusive characteristics that one of ten felt after winning something. She liked this thought so much that she felt a sliver of anticipation zip through her. She decided that she would like to try to elicit a similar response from him again. Her thoughts were interrupted as she heard Severus mutter,  
  
"Ah, success at last!"  
  
The door opened into a dimly lit entryway, which contained an ornate brass coat rack and an elegant gate-legged chair. They proceeded with tentative steps into the depths of the flat. They were both feeling anxious but for different reasons. As Hermione took in the opulent surroundings of her new home, she felt excited in a way she had never been before. Here before her was not only a place of beauty, but one of adventure as well. Incredibly, she was alone in a foreign country with an interesting man and no one to supervise her behavior. It no longer mattered that the man was Professor Snape. He had changed somehow during the course of their afternoon together. He had become someone infinitely more interesting and attractive to her.  
  
"Perhaps there is something in this foreign air," she thought.  
  
Severus felt nervous. Despite his intimidating ways, he knew he was going to have to rely on Hermione to help ease his transition into such completely unfamiliar surroundings. His eyes took in the luxury that surrounded him. The room before him was as ornate as the formal rooms in his boyhood home. Although, at the same time it was different in that it opened onto a hallway that appeared to run the length of the flat. It was like half of a mansion.  
  
"Oh Severus," cooed Hermione. "This is beautiful. Come on, let's explore."  
  
Taking him by the hand as if he were Edmund, and she Lucy, from "The Lion the Witch and the Wardrobe," Hermione artlessly pulled him along behind her. Once again, he felt disturbingly aware of her palm pressed closely to his. "What is it about this girl?" he thought. "She does something to me." Severus only half-acknowledged Hermione's enthusiasms as they began to explore. He had spent most of his life living in opulent homes, so this foreign, muggle version made no significant impact on him. He was relieved; however, to know that they were to live in comfort. His concern was not with the place, but rather with their situation. Foremost in his mind was the fact that he had never lived alone with a woman.  
  
Despite his tendency to mistreat Hermione at school, he had long ago formed a grudging respect for Hogwart's best student. How could he not? She had shown on more than one occasion that she possessed a strength that eclipsed many of her teachers. Of course, she had that obnoxious Gryffindorian thirst for valor and heroism that was so unnecessary. However, unlike Potter and the Weasley boy, Hermione's Gryffindor character flaws were tempered with a pragmatism he seldom witnessed in magic folk of the purest blood.  
  
Hermione Granger was the first muggle born student to ever gain his respect in his class. He was ashamed to admit that until she had come to Hogwarts, he had been tolerant of muggle borns but still mildly prejudiced. He'd assumed that their capabilities were less than those of pure blood. With Hermione it was impossible for a master teacher like himself to remain bigoted. She possessed in abundance those qualities that were the most desirable in their shared world. Her presence had actually served to strengthen his commitment to fight the Dark Lord, because he'd learned that he did not know very much about the potential of a muggle born witch or wizard. Perhaps there were dozens of Hermione's waiting to further enlighten them all.  
  
Hermione's studiousness, her penchant for asking one to many questions, and her thirst for knowledge were equal to his own zest for acquisition of knowledge. Of course he went about the matter in a much more controlled and tasteful manner she did. However, it was because of their similarity of mind that he had rebuffed her continuously since she had come to Hogwarts. So while he admired her, he equally resented her for inspiring such an unfavorable comparison to himself. Perhaps if she had been in Slytherin house he would have been able to deal with the situation in a less aggressive manner.  
  
He realized once again that he must maintain a professional distance between them while away from the school. It would never do for her to suspect that he was not as apathetic about her as she currently believed him to be. He had spent too much time cultivating his professorial solitude to jeopardize it for Hermione Granger.  
  
"So, what do you think?" she asked.  
  
"It'll do," he replied in a bored voice.  
  
"You've got to be kidding Severus! Did you see the library! I can't believe I'm staying in what's probably one of the most expensive flats in America.  
  
Severus remained silent.  
  
"Come on," she said, "Let's go look at the bedrooms."  
  
Once again she took his hand. He felt the now familiar charge pass through him as his skin made contact with hers. He wondered why she was so comfortable touching him. This was indeed unusual for a student. Contradicting his recent decision to maintain some distance between them, he decided he liked the way her hand felt in his. They continued down the long passageway as she opened doors to the left and right of them. There looked to be at least five bedrooms he thought as she opened the last door to the right.  
  
"Ohhh," she breathed as they entered into a brightly colored room containing a large bed surrounded by sheer white hangings that flowed from a ringed centerpiece above it. "This is beautiful! I want to sleep here," she said sounding like a child. There was a door on the opposite side of the room next to a fireplace with an elaborate mantel. She wasted no time in pulling him in the direction of it. The door opened onto a large bathroom that was so impressive even Severus admired it.  
  
Done up in bold shades of black and gold, the centerpiece of the room was a tub that looked like it had been poured from twenty-four karat gold. Six black marble steps led up to it. Against the longest wall was an immense shower. Severus, who had only lived in old homes, had never seen anything like it. It appeared to have over ten different showerheads. At the top of it was a large, rectangular faucet that looked as if it would provide a mini waterfall instead of a shower. Also in the room were separate vanity areas and a closed off room that must have contained the loo.  
  
"I don't know which one I want to try first," said Hermione enthusiastically, "A bath or a shower."  
  
Severus felt himself grow warm at the thought of her indulging in either. She, meanwhile had pulled him through another door into what was obviously a dual dressing area, and through a final one that lead to the other bedroom in what he now realized was the master suite.  
  
"Wow!" said Hermione, "If this room doesn't have your name on it...."  
  
For once, Severus had to readily agree with her, for this second bedroom was done up primarily in black. The centerpiece of it was a large bed with a thick black satin down comforter spread across it invitingly. It was masculine, but he felt disinclined to discuss the matter as he suddenly felt the effects of their too long day.  
  
"Do you realize," he asked, "That everyone at Hogwarts has been in bed for hours. I'm hungry, but I think I'm too tired to eat."  
  
"Well, I could whip up something for us," offered Hermione. "But I didn't notice a stocked pantry or refrigerator when we were in the kitchen. We could order out for a pizza I suppose."  
  
"Excuse me," asked Severus in perplexed sarcasm. "Do I look like the sort of man to order in pizza. I have a better idea. Let's just wait to eat in the morning, because if we eat now it will feel like we're eating a large meal in the middle of the night. Which of course we are.....but.......At any rate, I saw something much more suited to the late hour, namely cognac. Go change into something comfortable and we'll have a drink before bed."  
  
"But Severus," replied Hermione in mounting excitement, "Students aren't allowed to drink alcohol."  
  
"My darling Hermione, after what we've endured today you can have the whole damned bottle as long as you share some with me. I'll see you in the library in a few minutes."  
  
Hermione walked back to the front hall and grabbed her purchases from Duane Reed. As she approached her bedroom, she could here the sound of running water in their master bath. "Oh my," she realized, "I will be sharing a loo with him!" The thought embarrassed her so much that she quickly knocked, and then opened the door without waiting for him to answer. She haphazardly tossed his bag into the bathroom. She could hear his muffled curse as the stuff hit the marble floor noisily. She then quickly grabbed her new pajamas and went across the hall to another smaller bathroom where she showered and brushed her teeth. She was still in the process of brushing her hair as she proceeded to the library for her cognac. She felt concerned that she would seem like a gauche little girl to him. While she was no stranger to alcohol, she had never shared a glass with an adult of such refined taste and character as Severus Snape.  
  
She felt relieved when she entered the library and found he was not there. Although, the presence of a roaring fire indicated that he had been there and left. She also realized that she too was very tired. Without thinking, she sat down on the soft rug in front of the fire and relaxed into the languorous feel of her hairbrush as she prepared to braid her hair for the night.  
  
This was how Severus found her when he reentered the library carrying two snifters and an open bottle of Carte Noire. He felt transfixed by her as he watched her calmly pulling the brush through her long beautiful hair. Seated in front of the fire as she was, its light turned her hair into pure gold. Her youthful beauty took his breath away. A falling log broke the spell and he began to move toward her suddenly. She looked up at him with a dreamy smile on her face as he poured the cognac into the glasses. He reached down to hand a glass to her, and as she took it from his hand her fingers passed gently over his. At this contact she looked up and smiled at him in seductive innocence. Severus realized that the apparent invitation in her smile was unintentional; however, he could not stop his body's immediate reaction to her. As he felt himself harden in response to her, he had no other choice but to abruptly bid her good night.  
  
Hermione felt a mixture of confusion, hurt, and disappointment as she watched him leave the room. "That," she said aloud, "Was positively Snapey." Without his company, the evening had suddenly become dull and she began to feel less excited and more fatigued with each passing second. For once, she didn't feel like being in a library, so she set the much- anticipated cognac on the side table without taking a sip and took herself off to bed.  
  
She thought she would fall asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow. Instead, she found herself reviewing the entire events of the day. She was just wondering how Harry and Sirius were faring when she heard Severus bellowing her name from the master bath. Startled, she jumped out of bed and opened the door.  
  
"I'm sorry to bother you, but...er, could you take a look at this bed for me."  
  
Hermione followed behind him completely perplexed. "What in the world?" she thought.  
  
As they entered the room, Severus dramatically held out a muscular arm and pointed at the bed saying, "That is not a bed!"  
  
"What do you mean?" she replied stupidly. "Of course it's a bed. What else could it be?"  
  
"No, no it's not. Watch this," he said as he laid his hand lightly on top of the down comforter. As he pressed harder, she noticed a slight ripple beneath the covers. She began to laugh.  
  
"Severus?" she questioned looking at him as if he had two heads, "It's a waterbed."  
  
"Excuse me, but it's a what?"  
  
"A waterbed Silly! Haven't you ever slept in a waterbed?"  
  
"You seem to forget Ms. Granger that I am not from the muggle world."  
  
His sudden use of the formal "Ms. Granger" caused Hermione to realize that she had embarrassed him. Eager to get him back to his relaxed, informal cognac-offering self, Hermione decided to placate him by showing him how comfortable the bed could be. "I'm sorry Severus," she said teasingly. "You've seemed so comfortable today that I'd forgotten that much of this is unfamiliar to you. You'll just have to take my word on this one. You will love sleeping in this bed. Here, I'll show you."  
  
With that she proceeded to lie down on top of the bed. Two factors immediately struck her. First of all, the bed was heated. She could feel its warmth seeping through the thick down comforter. Secondly, the bed itself was lovely. In fact, it was so comfortable that she immediately began to feel her body relax into its warm comfort.  
  
Severus felt paralyzed as he watched her stretch herself full out on his bed. She was scantily dressed; having purchased nightclothes that consisted of thin pants and a dreaded tank top. Her full breasts seemed to relax under the weight of her top and spilled out slightly on either side. Severus once again shifted uncomfortably. He was as hard as a rock. He sat there staring at her for several minutes before calling softly out to her.  
  
"Hermione.....Hermione.....I understand now.....Hermione......You can get up."  
  
But there was no response. Severus realized in sudden horror that she had fallen asleep in his waterbed. 


	10. Severus Makes a Decision

I feel that I should apologize for the short chapter. I am tired and cannot write anymore tonight. Also, I want to thank everyone who is reading and reviewing my story. Your reviews motivate me and make the writing of this fic relaxing and fun for me. I hope you continue to enjoy it as much as I enjoy reading your work.  
  
I do not own one single solitary character or setting portrayed in this fic. I have no claim upon any part of the wonderful works of fiction created and owned solely by J.K. Rowling.  
  
Severus stared at the sleeping teenaged siren cozily ensconced on his bed. He wearily lifted his head to see if the ceiling could offer a solution to his problem. He felt vexed and claustrophobic, and for the first time in his life, a little unsure of himself. He tried unsuccessfully to summon up his professorial alter ego. However, he realized that they had already shared too much in the one day they'd spent together. To expect the resurrection of their student/teacher relationship to resolve the macro problem would be unrealistic at best.  
  
Furthermore, he had been isolated at Hogwarts for so long that he couldn't remember his own personality. This was a key factor in his dilemma, because attempting to deny an escalating attraction to the only woman he'd found interesting in years seemed insurmountable to him. Their bizarre circumstances further confounded the matter. Also, it didn't help that he was just now realizing that while she was still a controlling know it all, she was an extremely attractive one.  
  
"And I gave her cognac. What the hell was I thinking!"  
  
"Dumbledore should have sent Harry or Sirius with Hermione," he thought angrily to himself. "For that matter, he could have come with her himself. I may be a nasty bastard, but hell, I'm still a man. This......This....... situation is a prescription for disaster."  
  
Hermione sighed and rolled onto her stomach. She raised her right leg slightly so that its bent knee almost rested perpendicular to her body. The effect of the tableaux she made was dangerous. The new sleeping position pulled the thin fabric of her pajamas tautly across her bottom. The effect mesmerized Severus. He decided that muggle wear was definitely more appealing than witch wear. He immediately felt ashamed of the thought only to become unreasonably angry with her for the guilt he was still heaping upon his own head.  
  
"Where did all this sudden moralizing come from?" He asked the room at large. "I'm not a nice man! I'm an utter cad!"  
  
The vocalization of these facts made him feel better. He looked longingly at the woman on the bed and made a decision. "I don't want to ruin her," he thought. "To be the despoiler of Hermione Granger would be Voldemortian in its lowness, but what harm could there be in spending one night sleeping next to her?"  
  
He suddenly realized that his need to slip into bed beside Hermione was not motivated by sexual attraction alone, although that was there in abundance. Rather, it would be the first time that he would experience the joy of chaste passion. After all, Hermione, for all her annoying, anal-retentive ways was everything that his once pure heart would have desired for himself.  
  
Before he could change his mind, Severus removed his pajama top and pulled back the covers on the bed. He gently eased them from beneath Hermione who was sleeping deeply. As he gingerly settled himself into the bed, he panicked as he felt himself fall into the mattress. He hadn't realized that there was a space between the bed frame and the mattress. Hermione stirred in her sleep as if his naughty, nervous behavior had somehow affected her dreams. Severus remained frozen in a half sitting, half lying down position until he was sure that she had completely settled again. He then eased his legs over the frame and stretched full out into the warmth of the waterbed.  
  
"Muggle life definitely has some advantages!" he thought to himself.  
  
He carefully moved around to settle himself into a comfortable position. He was ready to fall asleep when Hermione suddenly rolled over somewhat violently. Severus stiffened in paralyzed horror until he could ascertain that she was still sleeping. He was just about to settle himself again when she burrowed closer to him. She slid one leg across his mid-section and slowly moved it down until it settled between his legs. She then stretched an arm across his chest and curled her hand around his hip all the while snuggling into him as if he were a life-sized teddy bear. Once settled she let out a very feline sounding purr of contentment.  
  
Severus realized he wasn't breathing. With superhuman effort, he let out a long breath and then concentrated on suppressing his body's physical reaction to the woman beside him. It dawned on him that it was not so hard to do because the joy he felt was not about sensual pleasure. It was about the very thing he had most desired. It was the comfort and closeness that a man could find in just holding a good woman. And that is what he did. He reached out and pulled Hermione closer to him.  
  
"After all," he rationalized, "We both need this after the incredible events of today. Perhaps this holiday season will turn out to be better I expected." This was his last errant thought before he too fell into a deep sleep. 


	11. Too Hot to Handle

Neither Hermione, nor Severus, nor any other Harry Potter character belongs to me. However, I am appreciative of the opportunity to enjoy portraying them through the use of my own imagination. Thank you Ms. Rowling!  
  
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Hermione was in REM sleep. Her eyes moved rapidly back and forth. A contented sigh, barely distinguishable from her deep breathing, fell from between her slightly parted lips. The dream was delicious. She felt a mini bolt of fear pass sharply through her dream state as it suddenly tried to dissipate and go away, but she didn't let it go. Once again, her dream Severus gently gathered her in his arms. She immediately felt warm and safe. Her dream self, who conveniently had no inhibitions, spread her flattened palms against his muscular chest. She burrowed her nose through his soft hair. It felt like silk. She inhaled the masculine scent of his neck and splayed her palms across the slim, yet muscular, expanse of his shoulders. In this dream she wasn't a virgin. She was the opposite, and her intent was to enjoy the luxury of having a submissive Severus Snape all to herself.  
  
As is often the case with dreams, they seemed to be making love in several places at once. They were in his dungeon classroom on top of his desk. They were also on the floor of the restricted section of the library. For the moment, they appeared to be in the New York waterbed, and everything was going her way. Severus could not seem to get enough of her. She could feel much more than his hard-muscled body pressing into hers, and she reveled in the sensation of having this man's erection pressed against her inner thigh. The need to get closer made her even more bold. She continued to nuzzle first his neck, and then his chin, until at last she found his mouth. It took very little coaxing on her part to get him to open his mouth over hers. But then again, this was a dream. He languidly rolled his tongue around hers, and then moaning deeply took complete possession of her mouth. She felt as if he were drawing her soul from the very depths of her body. "Please," she moaned as she moved onto her back taking him along with her. She was so ready for him.  
  
But then, suddenly he was gone. She felt cold. The dream had ended after all. "Mmmm," she moaned half in dismay and half in frustrated curiosity. Reluctantly, and without awakening, she gradually accepted the dream's abrupt end. "I hope I have that one again," she thought sleepily as she turned into the pillows and fell into a dreamless phase of slumber.  
  
Meanwhile, a rapidly breathing Severus Snape stood over the sleeping girl. One hand covered his mouth in horror. "Good God what is the matter with me!"  
  
He had been on the verge of falling into the easiest, most peaceful sleep he'd had in a long time. He had been holding Hermione in his arms with her head just below his chin, and her body burrowed into his. She'd felt warm and she'd smelled delicious. He'd felt thrilled as a lock of her long hair spilled onto to his forearm. The pleasure he found in simply holding her had been hypnotic, and he had found himself falling asleep as he'd wished to do. But before he could reach his goal, she had become restless. He'd peered down into her face using the bright moonlight seeping through the window blinds as his guide. He knew she was dreaming, so he'd pulled her closer to help her settle back into a peaceful sleep. From there everything began to slip out of his control.  
  
A dreaming Hermione was a powerful thing. He'd realized this when she began to move her body sensuously against his. Her hands felt as if they were everywhere. He'd tried to move them away from his body, but this had only served to momentarily awaken her. He'd pulled her back into his arms, but felt semi-hard turn officially hard when she breathed an audible sigh of contentment. The pain of his erection was intense, so he'd been momentarily focused on his lower anatomy and unprepared for her next assault on his senses. Before he could block them again, her palms had moved slowly up his chest as if they were living beings wanting to enjoy the feel of his skin. Powerless to stop her, he'd felt the urgency of her face moving against his in the dark. And then...He was lost. Before he could stop himself he'd gained complete possession of her mouth.  
  
Kissing Hermione Granger was the sweetest experience he'd ever had in his life. Severus was far from inexperienced in the joys of sex. He'd been with countless, nameless and faceless women. None of them had ever meant more to him than one or two nights of intense conversation - usually sexual in tone - followed by a few hours in bed. But although he was experienced in the arts of sensual pleasure, he was ignorant about the sweeter aspects of love and passion. He'd only been in love once before, but they had both been so young. The experience had soured him. He knew deep down that his attitude had less to do with feelings for his former love and more to do with the filth and degradation resulting from his years of service to Voldemort.  
  
But this whole thing with Hermione was different. As he kissed her, he'd felt as if it was the first time for him. She had tapped into his long hidden inner core and in one single kiss was taking him away from himself. And for a few crazy minutes, he'd been prepared to go wherever she took him. But when she'd moved onto her back and opened her legs for him, he'd realized in frustrated horror that he couldn't accept such a gift from her. Not while she incoherent with sleep. Furthermore, she was too young for him. For that matter, she was too good for him as well. How could he ever justify taking her youth from her in an unguarded moment?  
  
Now as he continued to look down at her sleeping form, he knew that she was dangerous for him. She was interesting, intense, and intelligent. She was unique among women. "How could any man not want her," he thought in amazement. Before he could suppress this new emerging truth, he acknowledged to himself that could lose his head over her if he wasn't careful.  
  
"I've got to resurrect my inner Professor," he decided as he moved toward the master bath. He dreaded the imminent cold shower and the long night spent alone in the prettily decorated bedroom on the other side of the suite. 


	12. Was it Live or Memorex?

I do not own these characters. It is thanks to the genius of J.K. Rowling that I get to have fun writing this fic.  
  
Also, this is another short chapter. I apologize, but I figured I should post what I have until another opportunity to write comes up again. Thank you so much for all the reviews! Your feedback is welcome and appreciated.  
  
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Hermione Granger sat bolt upright in bed. She looked around the room in which she was sleeping without recognizing it. Her adrenaline began to free flow up and down her spine, as memories, like sound bites, reconnected her to her surroundings. Professor Snape. New York. Actresses. Flats. Small dogs. Cognac. Waterbeds. "I'm in New York with Professor Snape!" she said aloud as the events of the day before steam rolled their way back into brain. The meeting with Dumbledore, Times Square, The Gap and "Ooooo, the cowboy! Why am I sleeping in here?" she wondered briefly before automatically succumbing to the only logical explanation she could generate.  
  
"Oh my God! I slept with Professor Snape!"  
  
She could feel a Weasley-red suffuse her body from the neck up. Additionally, the impending onset of a hyperventilation episode overwhelmed her fragile attempts at breathing naturally. However, she was able to regain control of herself when a persistent little voice inside her head said soothingly and repeatedly, "My dear, you would never do that." Ever sensible, Hermione's logical self began to restore order to her seesawing emotions.  
  
"Of course I'm right," she asserted. "But what happened?" Her brow furrowed as she concentrated on recalling the events of the night before, in particular, her post-cognac memories. She felt frustrated by the ineptitude of her usually dependable, razor sharp memory. "It's not as if I had more than a sip of the cognac," she mused. She felt comforted by this thought because it was true. Also, her intuition told her that nothing inappropriate could possibly have occurred between them.  
  
However on the other hand, there were fleeting, sensuous images of herself and Snape hanging about her common sense like a theater curtain waiting for opening night. "But I went to my own room last night! Or did I? Wait a minute! He was screaming for me to come to his room. I remember now...He'd never seen a waterbed. Strange that! But ok......I lay down on his bed to show him how nice it was......I....must have...fallen asleep. I am such a dolt! How could I climb in bed with Snape of all people? And it was my own doing! He didn't ask for a sleeping companion. He just wanted to complain about muggle beds! "How could I? Wait a minute! How could he? How dare he!"  
  
Completely affronted, and without clearly thinking of what she was going to do next, Hermione whipped the down comforter from her legs and almost threw herself from the bed. She was as far as the door when she realized, with a new sense of alarm, that she was about hunt him down and..."What? Accuse him of having sex with her?"  
  
"Oh good morning Severus! Lovely day isn't it? By the way....How dared you do the F-word to me last night?"  
  
While she acknowledged that they had overcome a few barriers in their relationship the day before, she was sure that it was not enough to comfortably sustain a conversation about such intimate matters. The very thought of the word "sex" co-mingling in conversation with him sent another unpleasant ripple of adrenaline coursing through her. "And what if I'm wrong?" she thought. "If I feel like a complete dolt now, I can't imagine the embarrassment of falsely accusing Snape of messing about with me. Maybe I was dreaming it all? But why would I even bother to dream about the least attractive man I know?"  
  
This latter thought was barely formed before she summarily discarded it. She knew very well how affected she had been by the emotional roller coaster growing within her the day before. In the beginning of the day, at Hogwarts, Snape wasn't even a speck on her radar of life. She only thought about him when she was confronted with his daily dose of depravity and ill temper in potions class. However, by the time they had reached their flat, there had already been numerous subtle changes in their relationship. She had seen attractive women admire him, and had come to acknowledge to herself that he had somehow improved dramatically since their arrival in New York. They had held hands. And although it was for practical reasons, she knew the intimate contact had changed the dynamics of their student/teacher relationship. Moreover, she'd felt safe with her hand in his. She hadn't needed that kind of reassurance since she was a child.  
  
"But he noticed me too," she remembered. "There was that comment in the elevator about my breasts. And the way he looked at me there was so intense. It was quite lovely really." The more she thought about it, the more Hermione began to realize that his appreciation of her feminine qualities had awakened something in her. Most people noted only her well- known propensity for studying and her friendship with Harry.  
  
"Merlin! All this speculating is ridiculous. I have to talk to him, and it can't wait a single moment more. Besides, he's probably hungry and doesn't know what to do. Poor guy." She decided that she would fix him breakfast, and while his mouth was full she would ask him straight out about last night. There was a part of her that was hoping he would belittle her like always and return them to their unpleasant yet familiar roles. But only a small part of her wished this. The rest of her was suddenly basking in the belated, but heady, awakening of the woman inside her. 


	13. In Which They Collide

I do not own one single solitary character or setting portrayed in this fic. I have no claim upon any part of the wonderful works of fiction created and owned solely by J.K. Rowling.  
  
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Having made her plans, Hermione quickly showered and used a muggle blow dryer to straighten her hair. She wasn't completely unfamiliar with the technique. After all, it was what she used at home during the summer. She felt both anxious and excited at the prospect of seeing Severus. Her feelings of horror over what might have happened the night before had mellowed as soon as the first drops of water splashed across her face in the shower. The excitement she felt the evening before began once again to infiltrate her entire body. While she still felt a sense of dread at seeing him again, it was exceeded by an anticipation that she couldn't ignore.  
  
"I still can't believe I'm alone with my Potions Master," she whispered to her mirrored reflection. "Of all my witching adventures, so far this is the best one. And to think, I thought the holidays would be dreadful without mum and dad."  
  
She dressed quickly in one of the outfits she had purchased the day before. "We're going to need to do some more shopping," she thought excitedly. An image of him trying on black leather pants floated through her mind. "Mmmmm........" Taking a deep breath, she opened the door into the hallway and went in search of Severus. She willed her feet to slow down, but they wouldn't listen to her. Instead, they sped up as if they had their own "must find Severus" agenda. As a result, she rushed breathlessly into the kitchen at the exact moment that he stepped into the hallway.  
  
The impact took them both to the floor in a tangle of arms and legs. From her clumsily assumed position on top of her professor, Hermione stared as if mesmerized into the hypnotic depths of his equally intense black-eyed gaze. She could not tear her eyes away.  
  
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Severus Snape had finally given into an exhausted slumber in the wee hours of the morning only to be awakened by a commotion coming from the window directly above his head. It had taken him several annoying minutes to figure out that the noise was what muggles referred to as rush hour traffic. He remembered learning about this aspect of London life in a muggle studies class long ago. "I can't believe I pulled that memory out of my arse after all these years," he'd thought wryly as he sat up to look outside. He needn't have bothered, because the only view from the room was of the taller buildings across the street. They were not in the least impressive to him.  
  
A cold breeze had wafted through a slight opening where the window had been left ajar. He'd breathed in the impure air without noticing its frigidity. He was so used to the cold dungeons of Hogwarts that the little breeze slicing through the slim opening hadn't affected him in the least. It was the noise that blew in with it that was going to get on his nerves.  
  
"How can they stand to live in these claustrophobic megalopolis,'" he'd griped to himself. He was sure that most muggles would find the dungeons of Hogwarts a bit too drafty for their tastes. "No, they would much prefer to pay their two bits, tour the castle, and leave five minutes after closing, Of course, Hermione is a muggle of sorts. I wonder if she becomes cold easily."  
  
Unbidden, a mental picture of a very cold Hermione, hard nipples clearly visible in a tank top, had inserted itself into his thoughts. "Yes, she most definitely responds to the cold," he'd thought erroneously.  
  
"Dammit! She's sleeping in her own bed tonight!" he'd thought in exasperation. The simple utterance of the words "she" and "bed" had also served to push his guilty conscience back into its reigning place of prominence in his thoughts. What had kept him up most of the night had cocked itself and was ready to shoot his day to pieces. He'd sluggishly moved to sit at the edge of the bed and run his hands through hair. He'd made up a childish and nasty list in his head, and he'd childishly used his fingers to emphasize each fact as it came to him. He thought:  
  
"I hate muggles.  
  
I hate muggle life.  
  
I hate Albus Dumbledore for forcing me into this situation.  
  
I hate Harry Potter for befriending Hermione Granger.  
  
I hate Hermione Granger for involving herself in things she's never had the right to be involved in.  
  
I hate her even more because if she had just stuck to her bothersome, book- wormy ways; her tiresome hand raising; and her obsessive-compulsive libraryness; then I would never have been saddled with her in this God- forsaken muggle city. Furthermore, I would never have noticed that she was a C cup.....Or, possibly a D cup......"  
  
"Ye gods man!" he'd groaned in frustration at his inability to keep his thoughts on something other than Hermione's physical appearance. "This, this.....This unfortunate attraction has got to stop. Today!" he'd stuttered to the room at large.  
  
"It's all her fault. What the hell am I going to do? I have to master this. I cannot let Albus down. I have to reestablish our professor/student relationship no matter how difficult it will be to do."  
  
Once again he'd felt like cursing Albus Dumbledore. Despite his distaste for all things muggle, the trip really could have been quite relaxing. He could have used a little break from the Hogwarts Christmas experience. Had he been alone in New York, he would have had complete control over his time for a change. Ms. Granger would have been back at Hogwarts annoying her friends. Instead he was saddled with her in an environment that rendered him vulnerable to her.  
  
"Severus Snape is not vulnerable to any man," he'd muttered to himself vehemently before remembering that (wo) man was an entirely different animal. "No! Scratch that. Hermione was a different animal. Women I can handle!" Involuntarily, a mental image of their new neighbor appeared in his mind's eye. "What did she say her name was? Rosanna? Roxanne?" He couldn't remember her name, but he did remember her body. "That's the answer!" he'd realized suddenly.  
  
"She'll be vapid," he'd said beginning to plan out loud, "But she's better than becoming involved with a student. She was obviously interested last night. I'll use her to get over this thing for Hermione. It should only take a couple of days. I can bear two days with anyone if it keeps me from continuing in these terrible lapses in judgement."  
  
The plan was a good one, but it had left him feeling moody. The thought of spending time with the actress should have been more exciting than it was, but he'd had to be honest with himself. The prospect was not enticing in the least. Normally, relationships based on sex were the ones he most enjoyed. No attachments and no intimacy worked well for him. However, as much as he'd loathed admitting it to himself, he felt disappointed with the fact that he wouldn't be able to get to know Hermione better.  
  
Although annoying, she was the most intelligent student he'd ever seen pass through the venerable doors of Hogwarts. This time together should have been an opportunity for him to tutor her. He was interested in tapping into her views on potions from a student's perspective. It would probably be a millenium before another student worthy enough to ask would attend the school. "Look on the bright side Severus," he'd consoled himself, "At least you'll get laid while you're here, so drop the maudlin act and get going."  
  
Hesitant to spend another moment in such unworthy reflection, he'd hurried to the bathroom. He'd wanted to be awake and fully prepared to face the enemy the moment she emerged from her room. Less than forty minutes later, he'd washed and dressed, and now he was standing hungrily in the middle of the kitchen. He felt clueless. "Damn! I've got to get a grip quick. I can't depend on Hermione for everything." For the moment, however, there was nothing for him to do but wait for her.  
  
Thirty minutes later he heard the pulse of a shower. His heart rate began to accelerate. Ten minutes after that he could hear the faint whir of some type of machine. It was a strange whirring noise, and he had no idea what it was. His lack of knowledge made him feel ignorant. It caused his heart rate to decrease. He became cranky. Ten more minutes went by and he heard a doorknob turn. His pulse became wild again. His adrenaline ejected him out of his chair landing him in the middle of the kitchen like an idiot. "Good God man! Imagine if your colleagues were to see you like this. It would be too humiliating"  
  
He could hear the sound of Hermione's brisk movements coming his way. "Is she running?" he thought while stepping out into the hallway to see for himself. He had his answer within two seconds as she collided into him full force taking both of them to the ground. He lay there counting to ten to give him time to regain his temper. But when he looked up, his anger dissipated completely.  
  
Hermione, disheveled and clearly stunned by what she had done, was looking at him in the most intense manner. Her golden brown hair surrounded them both like a silken tent. Perhaps it was her close proximity, but he was startled once again into the realization that the girl was absolutely beautiful. "Why have never noticed the perfection of her face before?" he asked himself yet again. He was bemused, bewitched, bothered, and bewildered. And tearing his eyes from her face was the least of his priorities for the moment. 


	14. A very timely untimely interruption

By the way, I do not own one single solitary character or setting portrayed in this fic. I have no claim upon any part of the wonderful works of fiction created and owned solely by J.K. Rowling.  
  
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In the moments before he lowered his mouth to hers, Severus felt powerless to obey the recriminations floating uselessly throughout what remained of his conscience. The innate paradox of innocence and sexuality that were Hermione far exceeded his usually formidable ability to control his emotions. He stared hypnotically at the rapid beating of her pulse at the base of her throat. Her hair, spread out like a fan around her, displayed the graceful contours of her neck and invited him to explore further.  
  
Very few women had ever experienced Severus Snape in a soft, yet sexually persuasive moment. Hermione in her inexperience, therefore, was powerless to control her response to him as he gently massaged her neck with his mouth and tongue. When he began a passionate journey of kisses upward to her mouth, she became lost in a sea of sensations. Her one fleeting thought, before she gave in to her inability to think coherently, was that she would never desire a boy her own age again.  
  
Although the entire exchange lasted less than a minute, for the man and woman involved, it felt timeless. Thus, by the time Severus moved his mouth to hers, for both of them the anticipation of the kiss was exceeded by what would follow it. Hermione closed her eyes and waited. It seemed as if she had been waiting for this moment forever.  
  
Unfortunately, just as his mouth made the merest sliver of contact with hers, chimes began to sound in the background. The sound was so illusive at first, that Hermione had incorporated the beauty of it into her luxurious private reality. Severus, on the other hand, having no experience with chimes panicked. With the sudden movement and grace of a panther, he was standing over her looking as if the hounds of hell were after him.  
  
"Severus, what?" asked Hermione in bewilderment. She raised herself up to a sitting position and held out her hand to him imploringly. "Don't. Don't stop now. Kiss me Severus, please," she asked passionately.  
  
Severus gave her one longing look, but could no longer ignore the increasing persistence of the chiming sound that seemed to be coming from several directions. "Hermione, this is crazy! What is that noise? Take out your wand immediately!"  
  
His tone of voice, elevated wand, and combative posture finally burst Hermione's bubble. The sound finally penetrated her brain. Rising to her feet she said, "It's the doorbell. Just ignore it."  
  
"Excuse me, it's the door what?"  
  
"It's a doorbell Severus! It's what muggles do when they want to visit. There's no apparating, no floo network. When people want to communicate, they either ring you by telephone or come over and ring the bell at your home. Damn! How annoying! Clearly, we are NOT at home. Why don't they just go away?"  
  
While he didn't understand a word of her explanation, Severus proceeded to the door as the previously postponed wave of guilt penetrated his mind at last. "What the hell was I thinking," he said, as the need to extricate himself from the situation propelled him to the door. Upon reaching it, he quickly hid his wand behind his back and concentrated on operating the round piece of beveled glass protruding from the door. After successfully opening the door, he found standing before him a woman he had never seen before. Yet, there was something vaguely familiar about her.  
  
"Well, good morning my handsome new neighbor. I bet you didn't recognize me. I hope I didn't wake you. Poupee sensed the movement inside so I decided to ring until you answered."  
  
It was the neighbor. For some bizarre reason, she had disguised herself using a black wig and a lot of heavy black eyeliner. She looked like a hieroglyph come to life. Her sudden arrival and rapid dialogue left Severus a bit stunned as she swiftly moved around him and entered the apartment uninvited. Her ridiculous dog trailed behind her on a bejeweled leash.  
  
Ignoring her rudeness was preferable to facing Hermione at the moment, so Severus restrained his usual temper and swallowed the caustic comments that were ready to erupt at any moment. He forced himself to assume some semblance of a pleasant countenance and said, "Yes. You do look quite different. Is it your hair?"  
  
"Aren't you the clever one," Roxana said coyly before launching into a lengthy self-involved explanation. She presented her back to Hermione, who had quietly entered the foyer, and whose presence she had ignored completely. Severus faced Roxana, giving her the impression that she had his full attention. In reality he was watching Hermione over her shoulder.  
  
If it had been possible, his skin would have lost what little color it had by the icy expression on the Hermione's face. She was the personification of "woman offended." Severus began to feel panicked because he did not know how to ameliorate the situation. On the one hand, he was relieved by the timely interruption of their importunate visitor. However, on the other hand, he knew his priority should be resolving the situation with Hermione. Unfortunately, his intellect seemed to have deserted him. He didn't know what to do.  
  
Nothing in his previous experience, either personally or professionally, had prepared him for handling a romantic tangle with a woman as young as Hermione. "Women!" he thought sarcastically to himself. "And to think, less than twenty-four hours ago she was nothing more than an irritating teenager to me." Within seconds of thinking this, Severus remembered his answer to his Hermione problem. Of course it involved spending time with the hateful woman standing before him, jaws jabbering faster than a quidditch player on a new broom.  
  
"Her mouth has not stopped moving once since her arrival," he thought in wonderment. "She's like a baby. She's all id."  
  
If he had to spend an abundance of time with either woman, his preference was definitely Hermione, no matter how attractive the other woman was. Student or not, Hermione Granger was one of the most intelligent woman he knew. This Roxana was ridiculous. "And she's all muggle," he thought with distaste. He would rather spend time chatting with Peeves, but as he nervously met Hermione's level stare he decided that perhaps the neighbor was the better choice after all.  
  
".....And that's why I think the black wig fools fans while the red one doesn't," concluded Roxana. She didn't even realize that neither Severus nor Hermione had taken in a tenth of what she'd said.  
  
"My dear," began Severus silkily, flirtatiously, "It doesn't matter what color your hair is. You have other, er, attributes which cannot be disguised. While a man may not realize you're the famous actress, it would be impossible for him to ignore the fact that you outshine any woman who has the misfortune to be standing near you."  
  
As he spoke to Roxana, Severus was sure to maintain direct eye contact with her. He didn't want to waste any time in seducing this woman. The sooner she succumbed to him, the sooner Hermione would retreat back into the parameters of their previous relationship.  
  
He met and held Roxana's spellbound gaze. Severus knew full well that his female students considered him unattractive at best. However, somewhere around their mid-twenties, many of those who were still single pursued him ardently if given the opportunity. "I don't know what was wrong with my vision at Hogwarts," they would say. "Oh Severus, had I known then what I know now..."  
  
"Women are such fickle creatures," he mused to himself. But when his eyes once again met Hermione's, he knew that somehow she had proven him wrong yet again. Her expressive eyes were communicating her feelings clearly, and there was nothing remotely fickle about what they were saying. So, while Roxana, chattered on self-centeredly about nothing of value, Hermione and Severus shared a gaze of mutual understanding.  
  
Her eyes spoke of the hurt and humiliation she felt at his flirtation with another woman within minutes of sharing such a passionate embrace with her. Yet, there was something else in her eyes. "She's disappointed in me," he realized in bewildered surprise. The realization made him angry and caused him to become the victim of his primary character defect. His tendency toward arrogance quickly took over.  
  
This chit is disappointed in me? I'm the adult here! I'm her teacher for pity's sake! If either of us has the right to feel disappointed in bad behavior it's me. She's been practically throwing herself at me since we left Hogwarts," he thought hypocritically.  
  
"She's just like all those other little girls. There must be something wrong with the muggle water. It's made a mess of rational thinking. Woman indeed! She's no different than all the other hot-blooded adolescents, with their hormones running rampant through Hogwarts from the day they are sorted."  
  
The more he thought about it, the angrier he became. His feelings of guilt had disintegrated so rapidly he didn't have a chance to gain control over his malevolent temper. Had he been able to allow a rational thought to penetrate his tantrum, he would have realized how utterly unfair he was being to her. He also would have stopped himself from taking it all one step further.  
  
Turning to Roxana with a sensuous smile he said, "So, what are we up to today, beautiful lady. I need to go shopping, and I was hoping that you would come to my rescue. Just before you rang the chime, I was thinking to myself that there is no one else whose taste I can truly rely on here in New York. While my colleague, the very young Ms. Susan looks well enough; she's a tad too young to satisfy a man's needs. Needless to say, I'm sure we are both relieved that you arrived on our doorstep this morning."  
  
Severus's words, while non-specific, implied that perhaps his "colleague" had feelings for him that were immature and unrequited. His tone was biting, and Roxana unsuccessfully smothered a laugh at "Susan's" expense. Additionally, his fulsome compliments caused her to blush and simper stupidly.  
  
"Isn't he fabulous!" she said to Hermione as she rolled her eyes in pleasure. "Oh my God! I just LOVE his accent," she said in an American schoolgirlish voice. "I can completely understand that you would have small crush my dear," she said condescendingly to Hermione.  
  
Hermione, to her credit, did not respond. The only sign of her distress was the sudden unhealthy pallor of her skin. She simply turned around and proceeded to her bedroom closing the door softly behind her. "Was it something I said darling, or is she always that rude?" asked Roxana. Severus shrugged his shoulders in reply. He couldn't answer her directly. He was just beginning to realize that his resolution of his Hermione problem didn't leave him feeling as triumphant as he thought he would feel. Instead, he felt like an utter cad. "Bloody Hell!" he cursed to himself silently. 


	15. A Hard Door is a Great Support

"Chestnuts roasting on an open fire...." J.K. Rowling's characters and stories - who don't belong to me by the way - nipping at your nose!  
  
'Tis the season to be busy, and that is exactly what I am right now. Or, one could say that the season is my rationalization for writing a short chapter. I hope that's ok. I wanted to move the story forward, even if it's only a little bit. I don't have a lot of time to spare right now, so I'll do as much as I can. Please be patient with me. Thanks so much for reading this story! I appreciate your feedback and reviews! Happy Holiday to everyone who is celebrating something special during this wonderful time of the year.  
  
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It took every ounce of strength Hermione possessed to refrain from hyperventilating in front of them. Upon reaching the privacy her bedroom, she quietly closed the door and leaned against its hard mahogany panels for support. Her dignity was still intact, but she found herself unable to breathe easily. She was too overcome by the emotions roiling within her. She had never felt so many things at one time. And, for the first time in a long while, she faced a crisis she would not be able to resolve in Hogwarts library.  
  
She stood with her back pressed against her bedroom door for what seemed an eternity, yet for some odd reason, the expected tears did not fall. She was waiting for the release of the confusing pent-up feelings, the breakdown she thought might be required, but it was taking its sweet time in coming.  
  
"You're a foolish woman," she remonstrated with herself. "In two days time, you've managed to make a gift of your self-esteem to a man whose sadistic temperament is exceeded only by Lucius Malfoy's. How did I get into this so deeply, so quickly? It can't be happening. My feelings can't be hurt; they just can't be. Two days ago, this man occupied no more than the length of his potions class in my mind. And now suddenly I'm ready to the fall wheezing to the floor over him? Hermione! Get a hold of yourself girl!"  
  
Hiccuping softly, she threw herself face down on her bed intending to concentrate on shutting out the images of Severus and the personification of plastic surgery that was their neighbor. However, it was hard to focus when the gentle sounds of their laughter occasionally taunted her through the space beneath her door. Actually, it was mostly Roxana's throaty laugh she heard.  
  
"I wonder how long it took her to master that fake laugh? She probably taped herself and played it back a thousand times until she got it oh so right!"  
  
Ironically, she wasn't very far from the truth!  
  
She was still lying on her bed, her thoughts a depressing muddle, when their sounds faded gradually into the faint click of the front door closing behind them. "He left me," she thought piteously. "Now what the hell am I supposed to do?"  
  
She had barely uttered the question before she was jumping out of bed as the only possible answer floated into her consciousness like an old dependable friend. She began feverishly running a brush through her hair. There was only one thing for her to do, and only one place for her to go. The library! She would go to the library and research muggle books on relationships. Perhaps she could gain some insight into Severus's bewildering behavior. Suddenly she felt better. Reliable as Madame Pince might be, a muggle library would be much better suited for what she needed to research at the moment  
  
"Yes, I'll go to the library, and afterward I'll shop for clothes. It's not as if He would be of any help in that quarter. I'm glad he's not going with me. His style can hardly be called tasteful. If he had spent the day with me instead of Her, I would have wasted the rest of my holiday dressed as if I was attending a perpetual funeral. I mean, I love your basic black key separates, but everyday? Please! I don't need him. I'll look up books on mind over matter...Oh! I'll buy chocolate! American candies...M&M's.....And Godiva! Merlin! I feel better already. I don't want him!"  
  
After searching his room and locating their money, she exited the building, the daytime doorman bid her a respectful good morning. She thanked him politely and asked him to get her a cab, which he did with amazing speed and success. As she handed him a five-dollar tip she said to him, "By the way, did I tell I you that I neither need nor want him?"  
  
"No Mam, you did not," he responded politely. "However, I'm sure you are quite correct in your assertion."  
  
"Should I make it my mantra today? I mean, should I say over and over all day that I don't want him?"  
  
"Yes Mam, I'm sure whatever you decide will be the best decision."  
  
"Thank you," she said handing him a second five-dollar bill as she climbed into the back seat of the cab. "To the library, please. The great big one that you see in movies sometimes," she told the cab driver before muttering under her breath, "You had better be damned sure you don't want me Severus Snape! I will not play the docile heroine to your villain!"  
  
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She would have been glad to know that "the villain" in her life was already reaping the bad affects of his own sowing. Roxana had invited him into her apartment, a disgusting confection of bad art and pink things. Furthermore, she had plopped herself down next to him and placed her disgusting rodent- like pet in his lap. In addition to subjecting him to a discourse on her acting career, she'd demonstrated her ability to ooze baby talk gibberish to her rodent while pressing her left breast into his chest at the same time.  
  
"Concentrate Severus. Hold on to your temper; bite your tongue and concentrate. This is an attractive woman. It's been a long time since you've had a romp...Too long, in fact. You could use one now, so concentrate..... "  
  
"Dammit! I can't concentrate on this she-muggle," he thought briefly because it was replaced by the more worthy insight of, "God, Hermione was incredible today. She constantly surprises me, for someone so young. She left the room with such dignity."  
  
"Mmmmm...Larry, touch me there again doll!  
  
She was so beautiful today lying beneath me on the floor. Her hair, it's unlike any other woman's I've seen before. It's as if each curl has a life of its own. When I touch it...."  
  
He was aroused. So was the woman practically sitting on his lap and sucking his earlobe. But his arousal had nothing to do with her. He shifted uncomfortably to ease the discomfort in his nether region, and felt something foreign to him adjust along with his own movement. Looking down he was immediately caught in the vacant gaze of the dog.  
  
"What the hell?" he cried jumping up from the couch and dumping Poupee unceremoniously to the floor. The dog screeched and disappeared beneath a puffy pink chair nearby, its hindquarters the only part of him still visible.  
  
Roxana immediately dropped to her knees torn between continuing with Severus and looking for the dog. She quickly decided on pursuing the former, while keeping her right hand extended awkwardly toward the dog in case he decided to attempt an appearance.  
  
"What's the matter baby?" she asked Severus. Her voice recaptured the sexual tension they were experiencing moments before as if they had never been interrupted by a dog.  
  
"It's that rodent...er, I mean your dog. I can't have it sitting in my lap like that. I'm not fond of dogs. I find their slavish devotion, and willingness to like any person with a unit attached to the end of their arm, highly irresponsible."  
  
"I'm sorry baby. Relax," she said as she began gently massaging his thighs.  
  
"I can't relax. I have to go check on Herm....That is, I need to.....  
  
"Check on her what? She'll be fine. She's probably watching "The Brady Bunch" reruns."  
  
"Excuse me?"  
  
"Oh never mind! Everything you want is right here Larry darling," she said as she took his hand and guided it down the front of her blouse. She wasn't wearing a bra. His immediate reaction was one of distaste. He wasn't interested. Casual sex was one thing, but for him it required more than a pretty face and a pair of surgically enhanced tits to do it. When all was said and done, he only bedded women who were his intellectual peers. Women he respected. This woman did noting for him. However, he had chosen this particular path...  
  
"She's really quite good at this," he thought detachedly as she began to undo his pants with surprising expertise. "How am I going to get out of this," he wondered to himself even as an answer came to him.  
  
There was really no other option. He leaned back into the couch and allowed her to begin undressing him. And in an effort to uphold his end of the deal, so to speak, he closed his eyes.....And he pictured Hermione kneeling before him instead of Roxana.  
  
The effect of the fantasy was immediate. "Oh God," he moaned as she lowered her mouth to him. For several minutes he savored the pure hedonistic pleasure of the experience. He was tempted to allow it to progress to a natural conclusion; however, a feeling completely foreign to him forced him to pick up his wand, which he had placed carefully between the seat cushions.  
  
"Lumos," he said breathlessly as if he were whispering a love word to her. Suddenly every light in her apartment illuminated with an effervescence far beyond their normal capacity. The sudden brightness distracted, and then startled Roxana.  
  
"Whatever is going on?" she asked looking around startled.  
  
The distraction was all that was required. Quickly Severus muttered a memory charm while refastening his pants. Without missing a beat, he thanked his confused neighbor for the lovely breakfast date and headed for the door.  
  
After successfully reaching his own apartment, Severus leaned against the interior of the door to catch his breath. He felt unable to move. Instead, he rested his head against the hard mahogany panels and listened for sounds of Hermione.  
  
Severus Snape was an intelligent man. He was also an honest one. He knew what had chased him away from what most wizards would consider a fantasy fulfillment of the highest order. Very few wizards were handed wild, noncommittal sex from beautiful muggle women as if on a silver platter.  
  
Somehow, a not quite eighteen-year-old Gryffindor know-it-all had managed to ruin him in a matter of two days. She had broken through barriers within him that had been impregnable for years. The very thought of it scared the hell out of him. And...It kept his back pinned against the door as if he were holding on to his very life.  
  
| | | 


	16. A merry new friendship

By the way, I do not own one single solitary character or setting portrayed in this fic. I have no claim upon any part of the wonderful works of fiction created and owned solely by J.K. Rowling.  
  
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For almost two days Hermione sought refuge in the massive New York library. However, a cure for her romantic malaise eluded her until late in the afternoon of the second day. Due to her ability to store vast amounts of written information in her head, she had reviewed every book dealing with love relationships in the following sections:  
  
Self-help, Biology, Marriage, Psychology, Relationships, and Women Studies.  
  
She read a lot of books with titles like, "Women, Men & Myths," or "Men Who Love the Women They Leave." All of it seemed to be nothing more than a lot of rubbish. Although she was muggle born and bred, she was rapidly learning that they didn't have any better insight on love than Harry or Ron. This was not saying much. At one point, she even found herself wishing for the company of Professor Trelawny.  
  
"At least she would tell me something sensational!"  
  
She was in the process of packing up that second evening, when she noticed an attractive young man shifting from one foot to the other while trying not to look as if he was staring at her. Her guard went up immediately.  
  
Looking directly at him, she found herself trapped in the clear, blue-eyed gaze of a rather attractive blond-haired fellow whom she had indeed noticed on several occasions. He had been remarkable to her primarily because she had noticed him staring at her before, but always with a sort of polite interest. "He has eyes like Draco's," she thought, "But without the malice they seem so much more human."  
  
"Can I help you," she asked in a deceptively polite tone of voice.  
  
"Uh....Hi! I've uh, been um, seeing you around the last couple of days, and I uh, couldn't help but notice the type of books you're reading, and I....Well...I was wondering if you might, well, be in the same boat as me."  
  
"I see. What exactly are you asking, or inferring rather?"  
  
"Well....It appears as though you've been dumped recently. Am I wrong? I mean, what dog has forced you to spend the days before Christmas in the library?"  
  
"I beg your pardon!" demanded Hermione, now more than a little unsettled by the man's attempt at conversation. "I've no idea as to what you could possibly mean by what you just said."  
  
"Oh Lord! I'm so awful at talking to people when I'm interested in meeting them. What I meant was.."  
  
"Let me assure you," Hermione interrupted, "that I am not interested in you. Therefore, I have no problem in addressing you clearly and succinctly when I say, bugger off!"  
  
"Ok...Sorry to bother you," he said turning away uncertainly.  
  
Handling the situation assertively had made her feel strong. However, the hurt, puppy dog expression in his eyes, and the meek way he'd said "ok," was more than her caring heart could stand. She was too experienced in area of platonic friendships with needy young men to treat this one so rudely. There was something about him that was trustworthy, and she knew she could rely on her own intuition.  
  
"I'm so sorry," she replied as she lightly touched his elbow to prevent him from walking away. "I'm not usually so rude, it's just that my parents 'never talk to strangers speech' plays ad nauseum in my head whenever I'm approached by someone when I'm alone. I'm, H...That is, my name is Susan. And you are?"  
  
"Jordan Bradley," he replied clasping her hand in a friendly, but not overly exuberant, handshake.  
  
This somewhat impersonal meeting of hands further confirmed in her mind the thought that he was just being friendly. It also caused her to remember that she had often noticed him flipping through books in the same sections she had been looking through since discovering them the previous day.  
  
"What did you mean when you asked about my dog?"  
  
A laugh burst from him before he could reply, and his friendliness was contagious. Hermione found herself smiling back at him.  
  
"I apologize for my unorthodox conversational approach. You have an accent, so evidently we don't use the word 'dog' in the same slang terms. Lately, people have been using the word dog, also spelled d-a-w-g, as a euphemism for a naughty boy, you know, a player."  
  
"Actually, I don't know what you mean. Although I'm from the U.K., most of my life has been spent in seclusion. I was to be a nun, you see."  
  
The lie was incredible, but it was evidently the panacea of explanations. Jordan's eyes looked as big as saucers, but there was no disbelief in his expression. Also, it would easily explain her ignorance of muggle slang and American terminology.  
  
"Oh my God, I'm not Catholic, but I've always wanted to hang with a nun!" he replied as if in awe. But then he naturally followed this up by asking, "So, if you're into the nun's life and all what's up with all the 'understanding the male psyche' books?"  
  
"Allow me to enunciate. I WAS to take orders."  
  
"Ohhhh... And now you given it all up for a man - and honey don't we all - and he's gone off with some 'ho! Girlfriend, he took everything you had and left you crying at the library didn't he?"  
  
"Ah...Yeah! I mean, if a 'ho is what I think it is, then you are dead on correct. Although, he hasn't left me physically that is. No, wait! That sounded bad. We still live together...Platonically, of course.  
  
So, he's seeing another woman and bringing her home to your apartment! You poor thing! Oh my Lord! We have to talk!"  
  
"I know! Isn't it all dreadful," said Hermione easing back into the chair she'd been prepared to vacate. "He's enamored with this actress who lives across the hall. Roxana Hayes, or maybe Haynes, or some such name like that. And I can't move out because we are roommates AND coworkers.  
  
"Wait! Let me get this straight! You used to be a nun, or were almost a nun. You didn't take orders because you fell in love with a man. And now he's left you for the Ravishing Roxana Haynes?" Honey! How do you get out of bed in the morning? You're a living tabloid story!"  
  
"Oh! You won't tell anyone will you? I mean, I'm going to be all right. I'm very practical you know. I'm just looking for some insight that will explain why he would behave as badly as he has. I'm sure there a sensible explanation for it.  
  
"You know, I think you and I are both looking for answers in the wrong place. We need to find our answers in the bottom of a martini glass. How about a drink?"  
  
Well, I don't know. I hardly know you after all."  
  
"Susie Girl, believe me when I tell you that I am as anxious to find MR. Right as you are. I mean, you're gorgeous, and I would love to help you find a lipstick - you could really use some - but I like my girlfriends to be just that. Girl - FRIENDS!"  
  
Hermione felt wildly elated. Perhaps she was to have a holiday adventure instead of a holiday romance. A friend was just what she needed, and Jordan seemed perfect even though she'd just met him. "And a gay male muggle friend won't prose on at length about quidditch," she realized with satisfaction.  
  
"You know what Jordan? I think you may be my surprise Christmas gift this year!" I'd love to have a drink with you, but I don't really feel like going to a bar. What I really need is someone to go shopping with me and help me pick out some new clothes. It would really give me a boost. And, I'll provide dinner and drinks at my place afterward!"  
  
"You don't need to say another word. You need help bringing out the goddess I'm sure you are, and honey you have come to the right man. I do hair and make up for the soaps, although I'm sans work at the moment. You want to induce a few regrets into his rotten soul? Well, honey let me tell you, I've got great taste and I could shop 'til next week without stopping! How are you set for cash-money American?"  
  
"Money? Oh, it's no problem." A friend was the only thing I didn't have until about ten minutes ago."  
  
And so they left the library and embarked on what Hermione would years later remember as the night before the rest of her life. 


	17. Alone Again, Naturally

None of the characters or situations here presented belongs to me. I'm merely borrowing them for the sole purpose of exercising my imagination and having a bit of fun.  
  
Dear readers,  
  
Please forgive me for my failure to update recently. I will strive to do better. Thank you to everyone who has taken the time to review my story. I'm glad you like it, and I will continue to update as often as possible. In one of my reviews, I got the impression that the reviewer was wondering if I know where I am going with this. Please rest assured that I have a pretty good idea about the end of this story, but it may take me awhile to get there. For now, I'm enjoying the spontaneity of the whole fanfiction process. Also, there are many days where I'm planning to write, but end up reading everyone else's stories instead. I think that's even more fun!  
  
Thanks again, Eclectic Moone  
  
***********************************************************************  
  
Two days had passed since "the incident," which was the term that Severus had adopted to describe the entire Hermione/Roxana "thing." During that time, he had accomplished nothing. His life had done a complete 180. Except instead of his dungeon rooms, he was in a posh, brightly-lit muggle apartment. Instead of his wizard robes, he was wearing - and he didn't much care for it - muggle attire.  
  
The sunlight and the situation had left him feeling positively evil. He found that he was even missing his students, for at least they provided an easy target for the release of his anger, frustration, and general malaise. The only positives in his life were the muggle hygienic products. He had to admit this was one area where muggles excelled, especially in the area of dental hygiene.  
  
"Blast!" I'm at it again," he reproved himself savagely. For even one spontaneous thought which involved the word "dental" always reminded him of Hermione, and the fact that she had all but disappeared from his life in a very short period of time. "Idiot! She's not in your life," he chastised himself maliciously. "She's just another student whose immaturity is exacerbating its ever-present, student pain in my arse."  
  
Even one brief reflection on oral hygiene could get him started on - what he termed - a shameful thought spiral. He would be reminded that her parents were dentists, and her parents inevitably brought her to mind. However, the most disturbing consequence about these too intimate thoughts was the indisputable fact that he was hungry to know more about her. He was curious about the facts that could fill in the missing gaps of time when she was away from Hogwarts. Although the information had been mentioned amongst the school staff, he had never been interested enough to listen, much to his present regret.  
  
He wanted to know about her childhood as a witch in the muggle world. "When did her parents realize she was not like other children? How did they figure it out? Were there non-muggle relatives who explained it to them? Or, was the Hogwarts letter as much as surprise to her as it was to Potter?" These were the kinds of questions that were beginning to bedevil him with increasing consistency.  
  
"Damn her parents! And damn her for reintroducing the word remorse into my vocabulary! Damn her for making me admit it!"  
  
The Hermione induced remorse was the hardest thing for him to face up to. His plan to chase her away had worked, but it hadn't occurred to him until it was too late that her absence would leave a void. In particular, he felt homesick for the intellectual stimulation of their shared world. He missed his potions work.  
  
In his opinion, there was nothing in this foreign existence that was suitable for solitary reflection and relaxation. The culture and pace were too frenetic outside, and he did not enjoy being alone in the apartment with nothing familiar to occupy his mind. Although this explained his lamentable tendency to reflect on Hermione, it did nothing to alleviate his inability to simply entertain himself.  
  
While his active brain was open to dissecting new experiences, he required someone to fill in the abundance of missing information. Hermione was the only one he knew with the personal experience and intellectual ability to help him process this adventure from both the muggle and wizard perspectives.  
  
Even Dumbledore could not personally address the muggle-born experience. Then, of course, there was always Potter. But he could barely tolerate the thought of him, let alone spending time talking to him. Besides, while Potter was a powerful wizard, his intellectual talents were somewhat dim. He was no Hermione. Even, Potter admitted that he owed much of his success to her.  
  
The only other person he'd met was Roxana, whose mental capacity was limited to a degree he couldn't even begin to comprehend. "Besides, she irritates me almost as much as Potter."  
  
Since Hermione's defection, he had been reading muggle books from the library in their new home. Some of them were considered classics that even the most bigoted wizard had heard of at some time or another. But reading required discussing, and he desperately wanted to hear her views.  
  
He had figured out how to enervate the picture box in his bedroom. Although, it had too many attachments and buttons, so he kept it on whatever appeared when it came alive. Fortunately, this was something that muggles evidently referred to as "CNN News," which was very enlightening. However, he found that he needed Hermione's knowledge of the historical context behind many of the stories presented.  
  
For the first time in his adult life, he found himself regretting his former distaste for muggle studies. Had he paid more attention and respect to the subject, the somewhat humiliating need for her company would have been less acute.  
  
He had only seen her once or twice since the "incident." And while she wasn't hostile towards him, her pleasantly detached conversation was an enigma to him. He had no idea how to break through her shield of platitudes and polite questions about the weather. Additionally, his previous relationships with women had never involved conflict to the level it had reached with her.  
  
It was impossible for him to treat her condescendingly. Unfortunately, he had permanently removed that option their first full day together. Neither their situation, nor their relationship could accommodate their former student teacher dynamic. He couldn't simply ignore her either, because she always spoke to him first. And he absolutely refused to take refuge in his room. He had too much self-respect to begin hiding from and eighteen-year- old girl/woman. Instead he found himself responding in kind to her, and dreading the click of either the front door, or her bedroom door closing behind her before he could get up the courage to address their situation.  
  
"Maybe she decided that the developing relationship between us was not to her taste," he would wonder with a twinge of panic. This thought, which frequented his brainwaves more often than he liked, left him feeling extremely uncomfortable, so he changed the subject in his head each time it came up. Furthermore, he the thought would cross his mind without his noticing his own use of the word "relationship."  
  
For Severus Snape, the concept of "in denial" was anathema to his personality. He'd always faced life straight on, and made choices without fear of retribution or harm. It was these very characteristics that enabled him to successfully live the double life of Deatheater and spy.  
  
"Damn it, I want to clear up this ridiculousness once and for all. We need to make better use of our time here. If we worked together, we could use this time to benefit our world instead of further eroding an already disagreeable association."  
  
The thought was still actively playing in his mind when he heard the click of her key in the front door. A burst of adrenaline shot through his upper torso and escaped upward through his head. "Get a grip man," he muttered to himself in disgust. But the feeling didn't dissipate. Instead, it began to escalate until he could actually feel the beating of his heart. For Hermione had indeed returned home.....  
  
But this time, she was not alone. 


	18. Everyone Hits the Floor

I do not own these characters etc. etc. etc.  
  
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Jordan Bradley was beyond impressed as they passed the doorman and entered the "flat" his new friend had so casually referred to. Having grown up in the Bronx, he had often wondered what lay behind the doorman protected facades of Manhattan's elite residences. He was about to find out, and he planned to investigate every nook, cranny, and bathroom cabinet in Hermione's place - with her permission of course. He wasn't surprised that she lived in such a "Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous" kind of a place.  
  
While she didn't exude the complaisance inherent in people for whom the words " I'm broke" were a myth, money was definitely not a problem for her. In addition, there were things about her that led him to believe that there was more than the convent mystery carefully hidden behind her intense personality.  
  
Although it seemed like he'd known her forever, in reality their joined-at- the-hipness was a thirty-six hour odyssey that had left them both feeling as if they'd been friends forever. She had swept him along with her into a whirlwind of shopping and taxicabs. With the holiday season in full swing, the stores had been open late to accommodate her apparent desire to divest herself of a small fortune. After leaving the library two days ago, they'd begun at Saks Fifth Avenue, continued at Lord and Taylor, and finished in the chic boutiques of Soho.  
  
Afterward, they had hit several clubs, followed by an after party at the home of his best friend Sheila. She was a hair and make-up guru who was currently doing make at Radio City. Sheila had transformed Hermione's Jane Eyre hair into a sleek and sexy confection without compromising its length. Most interesting was the fact that while under the influence of cocktails and the hairdryer, Hermione had completed the organic chemistry assignment of a medical student who'd drunk himself into a stupor around 3 am. She'd felt sorry for him and picked up where his untidy pencil scrawls indicated he'd given in to the demons of after party alcohol, dancing, and sex in the bathroom.  
  
Jordan was beginning to feel like Shakespeare's Titania had dropped into his life for the pleasure of a mid-winter romp. As soon as the thought crossed his mind, he'd renamed his new best friend, Hermia, in keeping with the play of which she reminded him. She was controlling, but definitely loveable, and she didn't exclude him from her shopping fun. She'd purchased him a number of things, including a full-length, mink-lined leather coat that had cost a fortune. He'd admired it and then watched open-mouthed as she reached into her magic purse of seemingly never-ending cash reserves. She'd paid for the coat without even a pause in her steady stream of conversation.  
  
She seemed to have forgotten her own fucked-up problems because she had been lecturing to him on every subject under and above the sun. However, she was dead on correct in just about everything she had to say, so instead of being irritated with her he was fascinated by her. All in all, had he not been the guy who'd played high school football solely for the hedonistic, eye-candy pleasures of the locker room, he might have fancied her a bit.  
  
"Santa's been good to daddy this year," he whispered sweetly in her ear, one arm draped heavily around her neck as she unsteadily attempted to unlock her apartment door. It was after midnight, and they were still pleasantly intoxicated. In homage to such a wondrous state of being, he leaned into her and placed a sloppy kiss on the soft flesh of her neck.  
  
The gesture, well intentioned though it was, caused them to fall inelegantly through the door at the moment she managed to open it. They landed in a drunken tangle of arms and legs on the thick antique rug in the entryway.  
  
Looking up from his unseemly position on the floor, Jordan's heart began thumping like a wild thing. His eyes widened to an incredible size as they took in a pair of large, expensively shod feet. His brain, struggling to function in its current state of inebriation, forced his blue-eyed gaze upward. What he saw left him momentarily speechless. Gazing down at him like the prince of darkness was anger personified in the form of a black- haired devil clad in voluminous black cape-like attire. "Oh my God! It's Darth Vader!" he cried before blacking out in a sprawling heap on top of a still giggling Hermione.  
  
Severus, hindered by the rockets red glare bursting within his eye sockets, followed the sound of the drunken giggling rising up from the floor. He reached out blindly with both hands and grasped Hermione's soft, narrow waist. Fueled by anger, adrenaline, and his own strength, he lifted her as if she was a stuffed doll and narrowly avoided crashing her face into his own. The sweeping momentum behind his actions left Hermione looking, and feeling, disoriented with her newly straightened hair hanging messily about her face. Several strands reached out and clung like tentacles to the black of Severus's wizard robe. There were only a few millimeters of space between their mouths.  
  
Having learned to sneer from the master himself, Hermione met his black- eyed gaze with a chilly expression of her own.  
  
"What the hell are you looking at," she sneered insolently.  
  
"Not much," he replied maliciously.  
  
"And why are you wearing robes? We're in New York remember?"  
  
"Perhaps I'm wearing robes because we've been summoned home," he lied. He felt happy when his comment clearly startled her.  
  
"Of course you wouldn't be aware of the fact given your reckless willingness to compromise our position by involving yourself with this git." To further emphasize his point, he delivered a vicious kick to Jordan's shin.  
  
"Take your hands off me, you fucking hypocrite," said Hermione as she unsuccessfully struggled to escape the vise-like hold he now had on her upper arms.  
  
"Nice language Ms. Granger. You're such a lady!"  
  
"Oh no Professor Snape, I'm not a lady at all these days. I'm a woman through to my core. To bad you weren't the one to help me realize my own potential."  
  
"Shut up! How do you know this is not one of Voldemort's spies? Did you think of that before you decided to fuck him? I wish Minerva were hear to see how her darling Gryffindor behaves outside of Hogwarts."  
  
"You're a liar! We haven't been summoned home. What? Did you miss your hideous black robe so much that you couldn't keep your hands off it? It's like your itty-bitty security blankie isn't it?"  
  
"Shut your mouth Girl!"  
  
"Yes Sir Professor Snape! Right away Sir! Oh, but please do allow me to explain myself sir. If I may speak candidly that is. You see I haven't compromised our safety any more than you have. Please rest assured that before I experienced multiple orgasm's with Jordan, that's him on the floor by the way, I performed the same rudimentary wizard detecting test I'm sure you performed on that widgeon across the hall. I was able to ascertain that Jordan was definitely all muggle. What? Why are you looking at me so strangely? Oh..Don't tell me you didn't know.....  
  
"Do you plan on coming to the point before Christmas?"  
  
"Yes of course. Why professor Snape, it's common knowledge that it takes muggles much longer to reach orgasm. This is especially true for muggle men versus wizards. When Jordan didn't stop after the longest time, I knew ---. What? Ohhhh....You didn't last long enough with Roxana to time her? Well, now whose compromised our position in the muggle world? Hmmm?"  
  
"Slut! Albus Dumbledore has done everything he can to ensure your safety, and this is how you show your appreciation? You thank him with your lust? Of course I'm not surprised. You were panting for me before we were half an hour in this God-forsaken place weren't you? Who is this drunken imbecile you've been sleeping with? Do you even really know his name, or did you make it up for by benefit? Do you know his name Hermione? Do you know his name?"  
  
With each ruthless question, Severus shook Hermione until he could no longer see her face through her hair. It was several minutes before he realized in rapidly dawning horror what he was doing. Letting go of her as abruptly as he'd picked her up, Severus began slowly backing away from her in shock. "What am I doing?" he asked out loud in a stricken voice as he continued to back away from her. "She's a student man. What are you doing? Hermione, please look at me. I don't know what came over me. I...."  
  
He was unable to complete his thought as a rage-filled Hermione threw herself at him like a missile. He never even saw her stand up. Her fingernails felt like talons as she burrowed them into his face and neck. He could hear sobs emanating from her as she screamed the words hypocrite and bastard over and over again. Utilizing skills he had perfected first as a deatheater and then during the war, he managed to subdue her. However, in what seemed to happen in slow motion, Hermione struck out at him for the second time in her life. This time, she closed her hand into a fist before making contact with his face. The end result knocked him to the floor.  
  
Hermione, her chest heaving from the emotions behind her actions, dropped to her knees and began sobbing in earnest. Severus stared at her in wonder as her violent crying sent visible waves of turbulence shuddering through her body. As he watched her, a sudden insight took its first tentative hold on him. As it grew into its full potential, it resulted in what he would later consider the most significant defining moment in his life.  
  
She was like him. Her nature, her intelligence, her wicked temper, and her passions were his feminine familiars. She had a Slytherin-like thirst for knowledge that caused her to ruthlessly subject her personal needs to her study habits. She was zealous in her consumption of intellectual pursuit. The realization attracted him in a way he had never experienced before. She was so much more than every woman he had encountered in his thirty something years of life.  
  
This last thought coincided with her slow removal of her hands from her face. She parted her hair like a veil, and looked at him with an intensity that pierced his soul. In that moment, Severus Snape knew that he had fallen in love with her.  
  
Unaware of what he was doing, he crossed the few feet separating them and dropped to his knees in front of her. Lost in the depths of her brown eyes, he gently took her face between his hands. "Hermione," he began before stopping again. He was at a loss for words as he watched her slowly rise to her knees. For several seconds he was paralyzed with the fear of not knowing what she would do next. She had every reason to reject him, but he didn't know what he would do if she got up and walked away.  
  
The relief he felt was too profound for words as she tearfully wrapped her arms around his neck and asked him to hold her. "Yes, of course," he exhaled as he enveloped her in the warmth of his embrace and hoped that the strength of his arms would communicate what he didn't know how to put into words. When she looked up at him again, he saw vulnerability in the honesty of her gaze. Leaning closer, he captured her mouth in a kiss that was so profound he felt as if his mouth would remain permanently connected to hers.  
  
Kiss after passionate kiss took them to the floor within several feet of Jordan, but they neither noticed nor cared. What began as a meeting of mouths soon flowed into a meeting of tongues and then an exploration of mouths. His hands, breaking through the buttons of her new coat, reached in to pull her closer to him. When what could have been an eternity had passed, they stopped kissing to enjoy the simple pleasure of looking into each others eyes. Unable to stop himself, Severus quietly spoke.  
  
"Hermione," he asked, "What is between you and him? Have you really slept with him yet?"  
  
Hermione thought carefully before responding. Despite the hurtful things he had said and done, she was ecstatic that she was in his arms at last. Yet, her intuition told her that it would be a mistake to let him think that her relationship with Jordan was platonic. Although she felt horrible about it, she knew that she wasn't going to be completely truthful with him.  
  
"He's been very good to me the last couple of days. I needed that so much. You hurt me Severus, and he's been there for me, so I won't deny that there may be feelings, but...."  
  
"But?"  
  
"But I lying when I allowed you to think that our relationship has progressed as far as sex."  
  
Severus breathed a sigh of relief and then captured her mouth for another searing kiss. Several moments later, she broke away from him. Concerned, he began to speak but she covered his mouth gently with her fingers. Looking deeply into his eyes she said, "I don't want to make love with any man but you Severus Snape. I'm still in possession of my virginity. You can have it if you want it."  
  
The combination of her seductiveness and innocence overwhelmed him. He had never wanted a woman as much as he wanted Hermione. Leaving Jordan asleep on the rug, he swept her into his arms and carried her to his bed.  
Several hours later Severus lay between her legs as she gently caressed his back. He was enjoying the pleasure of lying against her and was reluctant to remove himself from the warmth of her inner body. "So, did you time me?" he asked coyly. "Am I a wizard or a muggle?"  
  
"Yes I timed you," she giggled in reply, "And you are definitely all muggle," 


	19. Author's Note

I owe a sincere apology to everyone who has been reading this story. I was a little burned out after the holidays, and started neglecting my updating responsibilities. I've used the time reading tons of great stories by other authors Quillusion, Pigwidgeon, Ramos, Kalina, Kaz, Witch Lisa, Anna, Adriana, Goddessnmb1, and Mykerinos. I've also discovered the pure joy in reading novels by Amy Tan. In other words, I've been having a great time.  
I just spent the better part of two evenings cleaning up the chapters that are already posted. I made slight changes here and there, but nothing too major. I have already written the next chapter, which I plan to upload tomorrow.  
  
***Please note that I will be re-posting the story with an R rating. The story has definitely become a little more "lemony," as everyone says, than I originally intended. I want to follow the direction the story has taken, thus the R rating.  
  
Thanks for your patience, and I hope you will continue to read and review. 


	20. Rememberances of Recent Sex Past

As I mentioned previously, I do not own one single solitary character or setting portrayed in this fic. I have no claim upon any part of the wonderful works of fiction created and owned solely by J.K. Rowling.  
  
*********************************************************************** For several hours Severus slept as if he had indulged in a dreamless sleep potion rather than a sexual interlude. Making love to intensity personified induced such pleasure that it was enough to lull even a hardcore insomniac like himself to sleep. He breathed in the delicious scent of Hermione's hair. A stray lock tickled his face as it relaxed indolently beneath his nose and across his mouth. He captured the lock between his lips and ran his tongue along its smooth contours.  
  
This gentle manipulation of her hair caused Hermione to burrow her head into his neck. Severus felt himself begin to grow hard again, as she ran her hand along his chest and placed a gentle kiss on his collarbone. Although she was asleep, she whispered his name, the sound of her voice breathy and seductive. She nestled closer. She smelled heavenly, like an aesthetic combination of pheromones, clean skin, and flowers. Combined as they were with the lingering aroma of their lovemaking, it was an intoxicating scent for the sensitive nose of a Potions Master. Their coupling was like a natural aphrodisiac, and he wondered if he could replicate it in his lab for his own personal use in the future.  
  
"After all," he thought, "This thing with her will probably be over before we return to Hogwarts."  
  
"Damn," he cursed silently. He felt his inner cynic begin its inevitable invasion of his psyche. "It won't last. It won't last," the cynic in him whispered. It infiltrated his central nervous system and saturated his brain in insecurity. Yet, he felt an intuitive need to fight this usual pattern of destructive thinking. He closed his eyes and focused on recapturing the idyllic contentment he'd been feeling earlier. Unlike Proust, he didn't have a madeleine, to inspire him. However, his attempt to recapture contentment brought back the evening's events with the clarity of an involuntary memory.  
  
He relived their first moments when he had gently, reverently, removed the thin black lace panties that were the only remaining outer barrier between them. In his mind's eye, he glimpsed the beauty of Hermione's unclothed body for the second time that evening. And, for the second time, he felt himself rise in a throbbing full-bodied response.  
  
Earlier, she'd blushed like a spring flower in the throes of its first color on an unseasonably hot day. Yet the heightened color, which had spread languorously across her chest, had been more like the warm flush of an orgasm than a fiery-embarrassed red. His response had been to lean down and gently touch his lips to hers in reassurance. However, he had felt his bones turn to liquid as she opened her mouth under his and began teasing his tongue with hers.  
  
She had been shy at first, and had hesitatingly run her hands gently over his bottom. With encouragement in the form of his own voice, almost unrecognizable with its baritone tempered by patience, she began pulling him gently to her. As their naked bodies made their first contact, she had opened her legs beneath him and forced his shaft to make its first contact with the woman she would officially become. From out of nowhere, he had acquired a stamina he hadn't known he'd possessed, and checked his own need for completion by rubbing his erection teasingly between her legs. His intention had been to prepare her as much to pleasure her, but she'd been so wet that the slippery friction between them had almost made him come without even entering her.  
  
"Please Severus," she had moaned and then opened her legs wide enough to allow him to slip inside of her. Instead, he had utilized the slight shift in her positioning to bring them even closer without him entering her. "Rub your nipples for me Hermione. Please...." he'd begged.  
  
Wanting to please him, she'd complied with his request shyly at first, and then began to moan with the pleasure of her own touch as she watched him watching her. The friction between her legs had continued to build as he rubbed his considerable length against her most sensitive place. As his rhythm gained steady momentum, he had moved faster....faster.....faster.... Until Hermione had felt she couldn't bear the sensations he'd created inside her a moment longer. When she was sure she couldn't stand it a second longer, she'd felt as if her vaginal walls had taken on a life of their own. It was if her own body had pulled her downward and into herself. And then it had happened.  
  
Her internal movements had climaxed into the powerful grasping motions of her first orgasm. Unable to wait a moment longer, Severus had eased two of his long, beautiful fingers inside her. He could feel the tremors still lingering within her. His touch caused her body to lift off the bed while her internal muscles had reached out to grasp onto them. Unable to contain the intensity of the pleasure she felt, she'd cried out loud while vaguely wondering at the high pitched sound of her own voice.  
  
Although his erection had been painfully hard, Severus took the time to indulge in every beautiful detail of Hermione's expression while in the throes of a cataclysmic orgasm. When she began to come back to herself, he'd leaned in and possessed her mouth in a passionate, yet tender, kiss.  
  
"Severus," she had whispered. "I want to pleasure you too. I'm ready for this; for you."  
  
Her sweetness had been his undoing, and in the intensity of the moment he'd felt relieved that he was going to be her first lover. It was at that moment that he'd remembered a charm that Slytherin boys had been using for centuries. Since very few young women left Hogwarts with their virginity intact, the young men of Slytherin had always armed the underclassmen by teaching them the Virginity charm.  
  
Severus groped blindly for his wand, which had been teetering near the edge of the bed. When he had it in his grasp, he kissed Hermione and then slowly slid his wand inside her.  
  
The slim feel of his wand, and the heat emanating from it, had startled Hermione a bit as Severus sensuously spoke the following charm--  
  
Deleo dolor; Cresco mollis; Incito voluptus.  
  
-- Before plunging deeply inside her at last.  
  
Hermione had expected the moment she lost her virginity to be painful, but had been pleasantly surprised when she'd felt nothing but a pleasurable stretching sensation. Within moments, she was completely absorbed in the delicious feel of him each time he surged inside her. He was so large that she'd felt a slight panic that he might move her cervix out of place, but quickly decided she did not care because it was all so good.  
  
The feel of him, the weight of him, his touch, the spicy smell of his skin, his jet black hair, his endless black eyes, and long, yet lean muscled legs were worth any residual effects of their lovemaking. Best of all was his hypnotic voice whispering to her, coaching her, desiring her.  
  
"Merlin Hermione you're so tight," and, "I've never been with a woman who felt this good." And then, "Gods you're incredible," followed by, "Darling girl, don't ever turn me away."  
  
Hermione had flowed once again into another galaxy as the intensity of his movement began to escalate. Without even knowing that it was possible for the feeling to come upon her again, another orgasm had built inside her. As he felt her vagina convulse around him, Severus began to move with an adrenaline fueled strength that moved Hermione to the top of the bed. "Hermione!" he'd cried out as he poured his seed into her.  
  
And....  
  
"Hermione!" he cried out again as his memories dissipated to be replaced with the feel of her thrusting wildly beneath him as he made love to her in the present tense. 


	21. The Dreaded Aftermath

I apologize for the long waits between updates. I'm an educator and school is about to let out, so I should have more time to write. I also owe all readers an apology for the short chapter. It's a transitional one, and it didn't make sense to continue writing just to make it longer. Sorry for that! Finally, thank you so much to everyone who has submitted reviews. You are all great. I appreciate the feedback. I think I may have let this story go unfinished a long time ago if it weren't for your reviews. Oh, and yes, I am taking this story in a particular direction. I already have the end in mind, but it's unfolding at its own snail's pace. Sorry for that too! To be completely honest, if I were telling this fic orally it would probably take me a long time to tell it. I tend to go off on tangents, even when talking about the most basic things.  
  
Thanks again, Eclectic Moone  
  
I do not own any of the following characters etc. here portrayed, and I am profiting in no way from the writing of my small offering to fanfic world.  
  
********************************************************************  
  
Clad in black leather pants and a heavy sweater, Severus Snape did not realize that he was cold until he'd been seated on the same park bench for several hours.  
  
An eerie feeling that something was wrong had awakened him at dawn just in time for the sunlight to slither between the window blinds and shine with unacceptable brightness on his light sensitive retinas.  
  
"Damn it!" he cursed as he gingerly removed an arm from beneath Hermione's sleeping form and covered his eyes before the light devoured his eye sockets whole. Without consciously exercising any muscle control his body propelled itself into an upright position. His eyes were drawn to Hermione. It was as if she were on display like a still life portrait artfully portraying the previous night's activities.  
  
"Lord help me!" he muttered beneath his breath while easing his naked form from the bed without, "Thank God," waking the tableau that had become his most recent personal demon. As if mesmerized, he stood for a moment beside the bed and filled his soul with the sight of her fully relaxed form reclined upon the bed; her inhibitions three sheets to the wind. His eyes inhaled the sight of her as if they had taken over his lungs and were now sustaining his life with vision instead of breath. But without warning, unwanted feelings, such as the unavoidable consequences of having sex with a student, propelled him into sudden action.  
  
"I've made a terrible mistake," he uttered to himself in panic.  
  
Fueled by a sudden onset of tormented adrenaline, and barely cognizant of his own actions, he had dressed himself and was opening the bedroom door when he was confronted by yet another demon. Standing before him was the young wanker Hermione had brought home with her the night before. Despite the fact that he was in the process of abandoning her himself, Severus felt an unreasonable slick of jealousy as green as the colors of Slytherin house.  
  
In as much as he knew he was too old for Hermione, somehow the idea of her involvement with the smooth-faced, callow youth before him seemed even more incongruous. The thought of her wasting even a moment of her time with someone so vastly inferior to herself was unthinkable. Furthermore, this opinion became an indelible part of his connection to Hermione even though he did not know the young man at all.  
  
The boy stood swaying before him, eyes wide-open like a goldfish. He reeked of alcohol, and Severus realized that he was still inebriated from the night before. Although Hermione had also been intoxicated, his vast knowledge of the effects of substances on the body, in addition to the toxic odors emanating from the boy, made him realize that she had not imbibed as much as her obnoxious friend. He felt relieved that their shared passion from the night before wasn't entirely fueled by alcohol consumption on her part.  
  
With minimal effort, he assumed his Professor Snape persona. The boy, as a result, soundlessly continued to gaze up at him as if he had lost the gift of speech. Severus reveled in a moment of nasty pleasure, as the familiar feeling of control replaced the unfamiliar jumble of emotions he'd been feeling previously. Scaring youth was what he did best, and this lad was no different than any Gryffindor hanging about Hogwart's hallways after curfew. He struck out with the sudden swiftness of a cobra, using the molten silver instrument that was his voice to its fullest effect.  
  
"How did a pretty boy like you manage to hold her interest?"  
  
The soulful, blue eyes grew even bigger with fright, and prompted Severus to continue.  
  
"After all, this is a woman who possesses a profundity, depth, and intelligence that an inferior sort such as yourself could never begin to understand let alone satisfy."  
  
Severus, his verbal assault still in its infancy, was just about to continue speaking when an all too familiar expression suddenly appeared on the boy's face. As head of Slytherin house, he well understood youthful folly in all its many forms. However, he was unable to step aside before the boy's mouth, through no control of its own, transformed itself into a circle as round as his eyes. Severus was rendered impotent, as the boy's mouth became a projectile tool that began spewing large quantities of vomit directly at him.  
  
The smell was intolerable, as was the warmth saturating his pants and dripping downward into the insides of his shoes. "You little shit!" he cried out while grasping a handful of the boy's collar ominously. "How dare you contaminate my person with your filth you mongrel, you....."  
  
Severus was interrupted by a fresh splash of vomit that successfully saturated his leather shoes in putrid warmth. The boy stood there gazing dumbly at him for several more seconds before the opaqueness evaporated from his expression and was replaced again with fear of the wrathful figure looming over him. "Susan?" he squeaked looking about helplessly for Hermione.  
  
Moved beyond disgust, and without discretion, Severus removed his wand and muttered a cleaning spell. Jordan's eyes grew to twice their extended size. However, before he was able to filter these happenings through his brainwaves; he heard the dark force mutter something like "Olivier." Then he knew no more as he blacked out from the overwhelming combination of the obliviate spell, lethal doses of fear, panic, and the previous night's bingeing.  
  
Severus quickly went about the distasteful business of removing the boy from the bedroom door where he lay sprawled out in an ungainly manner. Reluctantly, he used his wand to levitate the boy - to physically touch him was unthinkable. But once the young prat was floating alongside him, Severus was at a loss as to what to do. He cast a nervous glance at Hermione to reassure himself that she was still sleeping soundly.  
  
However, the simple glance quickly became a look that transformed itself into a full-blown stare. It was as if his eyes were paralyzed. He couldn't get them to move away from the sleeping beauty.  
  
"So, here I stand mumbling over a girl like a callow first year. Very well done Severus, he muttered to himself sarcastically."  
  
Uncomfortable with is own self-reflective musing; he began to back away from the bed only to bump into the forgotten boy levitating just behind him. He was momentarily startled. "Blast it all Snape!" he spoke in self- castigation. "You're turning into a blithering idiot. It's as if she's given you a bloody love potion."  
  
This latter sentiment emerged from his mouth as he simultaneously interpreted his own utterances as if he spoke a foreign language. Once he clearly understood what he'd said, he became consumed with fear. He was forced to acknowledge that the word "love," one of the most elusive words in his personal history, suddenly had a tenuous grasp on his psyche. "I've got to get out of here," he though in panic as once again he began to take action without thought. He decided to put the boy in bed with Hermione. "When she wakes up, she'll think she slept with him instead of me," he thought without using his own common sense. Once he decided upon his course of action, weak though it was, he felt a little more in control of his destiny.  
  
Moving faster than he even known he could, Severus lowered the boy into the bed beside Hermione. He murmured a disrobing spell that removed the clothes from Jordan's body leaving him naked. He ignored the feelings of jealousy that vibrated through him as he carefully rotated the boy onto his side so he faced Hermione before lifting his right leg and placing it over her hip.  
  
As Jordan's body came in contact with hers, Hermione shifted languorously in her sleep. Severus, in the process of leaning away from the pair, froze with his hands in midair above them.  
  
"Oh God! Don't let her wake up now!"  
  
His terror was short lived because she only snuggled closer to the boy and burrowed her face into her bedmate's shoulder. As he slowly began to creep away from the bed, Hermione sweetly whispered, "Severus," while running her hand sensually over the boy's shoulder and down his side. He stared at the two of them, momentarily at a loss, and then turned away as an onslaught of feelings that he was neither prepared nor equipped to interpret consumed him.  
  
**********************************************************************  
  
Several hours later, after performing his usual full-body morning bed stretch, Jordan opened his eyes and met the startled, but even gaze of..... "A woman!?!" She was naked, and so was he. While he could remember nothing that had occurred from the night before, he did recognize the woman staring back at him with an appalled expression.  
  
"Oooooo, Girlfriend!" he cried out in an awed tone just a tad on the revolted side. "What HAVE we done!" 


	22. Author's Note

Dear Fellow Fanfiction Readers and Writers,  
  
You are probably wondering if I have abandoned this story. Well, I have not. I apologize that I have not updated in such a long time. I was busily working on the next chapter when a fire in my office caused a significant delay in my writing of "The Not so Horrible Holiday." Fortunately, my computer, desk, chair etc. were the only items damaged. It could have been me too.  
  
I am in the process of having my files moved to my new computer, and I have learned the value of saving/backing up my fanfiction writing to a disk. While I could have started rewriting the installment I was working on before the fire, I decided to wait until my previous files are restored. I kind of liked what I had, and will finish it hopefully in the near future. In the meantime, I am working on later developments in the story, so once I finally update it should not be a long wait for additional chapters.  
  
I appreciate everyone who is still interested in the fic. I always read and reread my reviews. Thank you for your patience with my updating issues, and please stay tuned for the next installment. I hope it will be soon.  
  
Sincerely, Eclectic Moone 


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